Twelve and One Half
by HappyPlaces
Summary: Post TS, as Ranger sees it


_Disclaimer: I don't own them, Janet Evanovich does. I'm getting nothing out of this except the satisfaction of Ranger ending up with Stephanie._

_Spoiler Warning: All books, but especially Twelve Sharp._

_When & Where: This takes place post Twelve Sharp, inside Ranger's head and his life._

_Rating: PG – R for violence and language. Morelli is not bashed, but he's not portrayed especially well. He's shown as a man who loses control of himself over the idea of losing the person he loves the most. It doesn't make him bad, simply human._

**Twelve and One Half**

_The day Ranger came home…_

She was sitting on my desk. She'd brought me cake and flowers.

I was feeding her a frosting rose, wondering why the Hell she was here, dressed like this.

Mind you, I had no problem with the bare legs and short skirt. She lived on dessert, so the cake was no surprise. The flowers were a surprise. She's not a flowers kind of woman. I watched her while she looked me over, avoiding my eyes.

"Why are you here?" I had to know.

"I told you. Your food pyramid needs cheering up." She still wouldn't look at me, and her voice was almost too soft to hear.

"Babe." I knew damned well she was lying. And she knew that I knew.

Her mouth opened and I watched her, waiting. She closed her mouth without a sound, then sighed and slid off my desk. She walked around to the other side of it and leaned back, with her butt against the edge of the desk and her back to me. She bowed her head and crossed her arms. I waited for her to start talking. She usually had a lot to say - or at least a smartass comeback.

"Babe?"

"I'm here for you."

"I figured that when you came up here instead of going to the control room." I was getting curious. Usually, I can read her like a book. Her face is open and she's a very physically expressive person. I can usually tell exactly what she's thinking and feeling – which led her to believe I had ESP. I don't, but it's hard to avoid what someone like her is thinking and feeling. I wished she would turn around or move to give me a clue to what was going on in that head of hers.

"You sent me back to Morelli." Her tone was flat.

"Yes." Now, I was glad her back was turned, so that she couldn't see my reaction to her statement. I cringed.

"He sent me back to you."

My jaw dropped.

She turned and looked at me then spat out, "I told him I loved him and he sent me back _TO YOU_." With that, she stormed out the door.

I picked up the phone on my desk and called the control room. Tank answered. "Bring her back up here," I said, and slammed down the receiver. I got up – slowly, carefully, with a great deal of pain – and headed for the living room.

Two minutes later, Tank and Hector walked in. Tank was carrying Stephanie, who was kicking and screaming, struggling to get away from Tank. Like that would ever happen.

Tank set her down, and she immediately turned to walk back out. Hector stepped in front of her. Crossing his arms, he shook his head. She turned back to Tank. I knew she was trying to figure out which one of them to fear the most.

"Talk." That one word from Tank made her turn back to Hector. She stood between the two of them for a minute, her head swiveling back and forth, still looking for her best escape option. You had to give her credit – she never gave up.

Her hands went to her hips. Her foot started tapping. She finally turned on me, hands balled into fists. She took two steps towards me before Tank stepped in front of her. She hit him in the chest and told him to move. He shook his head.

That was where her rope ended.

She pounded on Tank's chest with both fists and started yelling.

"Everyone wants to tell me what to do! You send me to Morelli! He sends me to you! He wants me to quit my job and be a housewife! You want me to be your whore and nothing else!" I flinched. She kept going, repeating the same things over and over. She stopped all of a sudden and stood stock-still. "NOBODY EVER ASKS ME WHAT I WANT! Nobody! Not my mother. Not my sister. Not Morelli. Not you. Nobody! I don't think anyone CARES what I want!"

She started sobbing and turned to leave again. Again, Hector was there. I held my breath as her fists came up again. Hector was unpredictable. He was sometimes violent and always volatile. He was brilliant with electronics and alarm systems – that's why I'd hired him - but he always worked alone, never with a partner. He was never sent into the field. He was never, ever assigned to watch over her because he was as unpredictable as she was, and I had nightmares about him killing her when she pitched a fit or had PMS – or equally possible, him going along with one of her crazy ideas and her getting killed. She took a swing at him and Tank tried to grab her wrist. I guess I wasn't the only one who was worried about Hector's reaction.

We were both stunned when Hector opened his arms and gathered her close to his chest, hugging her. He said something to her, very softly. I couldn't hear what he was saying to her, just the soothing tone of his voice. She began to cry harder, sagging against him. He carefully lifted her up and carried her to my bedroom. Tank and I just looked at each other for a minute, half stunned and half panicked. Just as we were heading in to find out what the Hell was going on, Hector returned to the living room. Stephanie was still in his arms, but now she was wrapped in a blanket. Still sobbing. She was crying so hard that she was shaking, and so was Hector. He was still talking. He hadn't stopped since his arms went around her.

He looked at me and jerked his chin toward the couch. He walked past Tank and me to sit down on the couch with her. He cuddled her into his chest. I looked at Tank. We did the silent communication thing Stephanie hates so damned much. He went to the kitchen for the phone, tissues and bottled water I wanted. I dragged myself to the couch and sat down. I could hear what Hector was saying now. He was telling her that every thing would be okay, that her heart would heal. He'd kill Morelli for her, if she wanted. He told her that men could be pigs. (I wondered if he knew about Morelli's extracurricular activities.) Men can be scum. He told her she deserved a man who would give her his heart and soul, his life. He told her that someday, she would find a man who loved her just the way she was, and she would be happy. He told her that the right man would give her his whole life.

Tank came back in and set down the phone, water and the tissues and left. Guess he wanted to a safe distance from Ground Zero if someone blew up. I couldn't blame him.

Hector kept talking, saying the same soothing things over and over.

I listened, thinking that I would never in a million years have thought that Hector had any compassion or sympathy in him. I certainly would never have imagined him cuddling a woman like this. Somehow, though, it seemed right. They'd both been through some very difficult – and potentially lethal - things in their lives and managed to bounce back and live life to the fullest. They never gave up. They never gave in. They stumbled, but they never fell into a well of depression. They had very different – but equally effective – coping mechanisms. He destroyed things. She smiled and chattered.

Hector kept talking in that soft, soothing voice, but I realized he was no longer speaking to her. His words were for me now. Maybe they were before, too. God knows she didn't understand any Spanish that wasn't on the Taco Bell menu. And Hector only spoke Spanish.

"She deserves a man who truly loves her, a man who is proud of her. She needs a man who will help her soar, not clip her wings. Morelli does not love her. Not the kind of love she deserves. Not real love. If he did, he would be supportive of her heart and her soul. He wants only a housewife. He wants the shell of her with a different woman inside. You want her body. This she knows. You are her friend. She knows this, too. She needs to know that you love her. She deserves to know that you are proud of her. She needs you, with your willingness to help her soar, and your support for her heart and soul. I see you show her how much you love her. She needs the words. She deserves the words. If you and him keep pulling and pushing her back and forth between the two of you, I will kill you both before you tear her apart and break her beautiful spirit."

Hector stopped talking and looked down at the woman in his lap. Her head was on his chest, tucked under his chin. He was rocking her slowly, back and forth. Her sobbing had quieted, but she was still crying. Hector reached for the tissues and gently wiped the tears from her face. He kissed the top of her head and kept rocking her, making soothing noises.

I was becoming jealous of a gay man. She clung to him as though he would save her from drowning. Maybe he would. Maybe he would save us both.

I made a choice.

Speaking in Spanish so that Steph wouldn't know what I was saying, I asked Hector if he would be here regular partner. I asked if he would watch over her whenever she wasn't with me. I told him he'd remain on my payroll, but stay with her. I asked him to help her with skips at Vinnie's, dinners at her parents, break-ins at her apartment, psychos intent on killing her, and encounters with Morelli. I asked this man, who was the employee I had least trusted until this moment, to help me care for that which I loved more than anything.

Hector agreed. He said that he would take care of her, forever. Even if taking care of her meant that he had to kill me for hurting her. What frightened me was the fact that he meant what he said about killing me. I made a mental note to never, ever, ever hurt – or even upset - her I if could avoid it. I wanted to live a long and productive life. Maybe giving her into Hector's care wasn't my best idea ever.

I smiled at him then – a real smile, the kind that only Steph gets to see. Hector nodded at me and looked down at her. She was still crying, but even more quietly. Her body was beginning to relax. Hector stopped rocking and leaned back into the couch. He shifted her slightly, so her head was in the crook of his arm and she was lying across his lap. He sat quietly. We sat quietly. The waterworks had eventually slowed and then stopped, at least for the moment.

After maybe an hour, Steph dozed off. She was hiccupping softly, her body limp. Hector rose carefully so as not to wake her. She sighed and he froze for a heartbeat, but she didn't wake. He set her down next to me and pillowed her head on my thigh. He kissed her cheek softly and whispered that he would take care of her. He looked at me and said, in English, "She makes me wish I were straight. I would take her from both of you and give her all that she needs and deserves." He turned and left.

I had no idea the man spoke English. It crossed my mind that I didn't know much of anything about Hector beyond what was public record and knowledge.

I watched her sleep for a long time. I stroked her hair away from her face and rested my hand on the side of her face. I tilted my head back and dozed.

She shifted and I was instantly wide-awake. I looked down at her. She looked dazed.

"You okay, Babe?" I asked softly.

""I have a killer headache. My eyes feel like I washed them out with sand. My heart hurts. I'm hungry. My nose is raw. My throat is sore. Where's Hector?" She suddenly sat up and gasped. "Omigod! I must have hurt you! I'm so sorry! How did I end up in your lap?"

She never disappoints. I smiled at her.

"You didn't hurt me, Babe. Advil and food, coming right up." I handed her a bottle of water, then picked up the phone and called Ella to order up dinner for two and Advil.

Stephanie ran for the bathroom. By the time she resurfaced ten minutes later, Ella had delivered sandwiches and Advil. Steph had washed her face and rinsed her eyes. She sat down at the edge of the couch, refusing to look at me.

"I'm sorry. I should never have gone off like that. It wasn't your fault. I'm really sorry I screwed up your first day home and I can't believe I hit Tank. And Hector!" She giggled with a touch of hysteria. "I'm afraid of Hector! I can't believe I went after him." She looked down at her lap. "I'm really sorry." It was just a whisper.

"Babe? Look at me." I waited. Her head turned toward me, but she wouldn't look at me. "Hey – I'm up here."

Slowly, reluctantly, she looked up. Her eyes were shiny with tears again. I reached out and took her hand in mine. I was quiet for a minute, arranging my thoughts. I spoke softly. "All my guys care for you. Tank adores you. Hector loves you, Babe. I love you. You didn't screw up my day." I shut up, figuring I'd said entirely too much already.

She nodded slightly. "I'm still sorry."

"It's really all right. No need to be sorry." She nodded again then looked away. I figured it'd be better to talk to her after she'd eaten, so I let go of her hand and asked for a sandwich. She handed me one and took one for herself. We ate in silence.

When we were finished eating, she leaned back. She yawned and closed her eyes. "Tired?" I asked.

"Yeah. I guess I wore myself out making an ass of myself." I smiled again.

"You didn't make an ass of yourself. You were hurting and angry. You're a bottler – you hide things away behind a beautiful smile until you blow up. It happens to everyone."

She shook her head and made a disgusted sound. "I'm a walking disaster." Some days she was, but I wasn't stupid enough to tell her that.

"Stay here tonight. It's getting late, and we're both tired." Her eyes bugged out and she started to get up. I lunged for her and gasped at the pain that rocketed through me. She stopped. I spent a minute getting my breathing back under control and riding out the wave of agony.

"Babe. Just sleep here. Please." I knew she was a sucker for the Magic Word. I selfishly used it to my advantage.

She relented. "Okay."

She picked up the tray from dinner and brought it into the kitchen while I worked up the nerve to get off the couch and go to the bedroom. By the time I got there, she was rummaging through my drawers for a shirt and sweats to sleep in. She found some and headed to the dressing room. I headed for the bathroom.

We emerged from our respective rooms at the same time. She looked at the bed and then at me. Her mouth started moving again, with no sound. I walked over and lifted the covers for her. She crawled into bed. I went around to the other side and carefully lowered myself into the bed beside her. I didn't get undressed. It hurt too damn much. I finally got myself horizontal. Steph lay next to me, and I could feel the waves of anxiety coming off of her. I reached out and found her hand, folding it into mine. "Babe. You won't hurt me. Go to sleep." She sighed. After a few minutes, her breathing became regular. I lay awake for a long time, thinking, before I finally drifted off.

I awoke feeling a little disoriented. I wasn't in the hospital, since that was my ceiling. I was sore, since I had skipped my pain pills last night in favor of falling into bed. My arm was asleep, wrapped around Stephanie, her head on my shoulder, hand on my chest, leg thrown across mine. I felt better all of a sudden. I tightened my arm around her a little and kissed the top of her head.

I loved the feeling of her in my arms. I loved to touch her. Hell, I loved every minute I was with her. Waking up with her was, for me, a gift beyond measure. I had never told her how I really feel. I had shown her, as Hector pointed out. A few times I had allowed a hint about my feelings to slip, just to see her reaction. I had never flat out told her. I had never been really open with her.

I didn't allow myself a relationship with Julie or Stephanie for fear that they would be hurt or killed by someone trying to get to me. The thing with Scrog drove that point home in a huge way. It also made me realize that even without a visible relationship, they were at risk. The question now was this: would a relationship make them less safe or more safe? If they openly belonged to me, would they be left alone because they were mine, or targeted further?

While I was stuck in the hospital, I had come to a decision: I wanted Stephanie in my life. I'd spent a lot of time keeping her at arm's length, and I knew that getting her into my life the way I wanted was not going to be as simple as telling her. There were going to be a lot of hurdles – most of them thrown up by her.

I needed a plan.

I lay there, thinking, treasuring the feel of this woman in my arms. I'd have to make adjustments to my life. I had no real problem with that. I had solved the problem of keeping her safe by getting Hector to work with her. She hated having a bodyguard, but Hector would be presented as a partner. She might be thrilled or throw a tantrum. One never knew with her.

I wondered how she would feel about seeing me in a romantic way, instead of just business.

She was one of my best friends. I'd never told her that, either. I had never told her how much it meant to me that she had called to ask me if I was okay during the Ramos thing. I never told her that seeing her made my day. I never told her how much that one night in her arms, in her bed, in _her_, had meant to me. It was a memory that I carried deep inside me, taking it out when I was most in need of comfort. Come to think of it, there was a lot I'd never told her. She thought I was Batman. The Wizard. A mountain of ice with a stone face. There was a good reason for that, too. I never let her see beneath the surface. I never let her hear. An occasional glimpse of what I was feeling at any given moment was all I'd given her – even when I'd offered words of love.

Contrary to popular belief, there was a lot going on in my head and in my heart, all the time.

She'd given me everything she felt – openly.

I had sent her back to Morelli because I wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to have the life she wanted. If Morelli could give her that, then it was what I wanted for her. The problem, of course, was Morelli. He wanted her, but only on his terms. He cared enough to want her safe, but not enough to let her fly. I sent her back hoping that he would use his head. He hadn't. Now he had sent her to me.

I wasn't about to make the mistakes he made. Like Hell would I send her back to him again. He had his chance. Now she was mine. I had chosen to change my life by getting involved with Stephanie. Now I need a way to convince her to become involved with me. Permanently.

I smiled and closed my eyes, allowing myself the pleasure of dozing with her in my arms.

I awoke to the sound of my door opening. A glance at the clock told me that Ella had arrived with my breakfast. I figured the guys would have told her it should be breakfast for two.

Ella carried the tray into my bedroom. She smiled at me, and I bet myself that there would be donuts on that tray for Stephanie. I could smell coffee. She set the tray down on the nightstand.

I looked over. Yup – donuts. Boston Cream. Ella asked in a whisper if I wanted anything else. I shook my head. Ella looked at Steph and smiled. Then she turned a huge grin on me and left.

I tried to disentangle myself from Stephanie while leaving her sleeping, but I couldn't. I didn't want to wake her, but I had no choice. I was too stiff and achy to slip out of bed with the ease and grace required to leave her asleep.

"Babe?" I shifted my arm – the one she was sleeping on – in an effort to wake her. She snuggled closer. God, she was making it difficult for me to think.

"Babe." I realized that I my voice was rising and forced myself to relax. I didn't want to send her running from me now. She squeezed me again and rolled on to her back. Phew.

Her eyes only opened half way as she looked at me. "Mrng."

"Good morning to you, too, Babe." I smiled. Seems I was doing that a lot lately. "Ella brought breakfast. I thought you might be hungry."

"What?" I knew she'd heard me. I also knew she wasn't fond of my usual breakfast.

"Donuts, Babe." She bolted upright and looked over at the tray. She jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom. By the time she returned, I had managed to sit up and get the tray onto the bed. Stephanie climbed back into bed and reached for a donut and coffee.

"I love Ella." She cleaned cream off of her lip with the tip of her tongue. Holy shit. I could tell it was going to be a cold shower morning.

"Me, too, Babe."

We ate in silence. That seemed to be the thing to do lately, too. I wanted to talk to her, but I wasn't dumb enough to tell her that. There was no doubt in my mind that telling her I wanted to talk would have her heading for the hills. I decided to just talk, no warnings.

"Thank you for the cake and flowers. I don't think I said thank you yesterday." See how smart I am, not bringing up her meltdown?

"You're welcome." She was licking her fingers now, her eyes closed, a slight smile playing with the corners of her mouth. Jesus. She was killing me, and she still had a donut to go. Maybe a bath in ice water was the way to go if I ever got out of bed today….

"I really appreciate you staying with me last night, too. It was nice to wake up to you instead of Tank or Lester snoring on the couch." She swung around to look at me, wearing a puzzled expression. "Not supposed to be alone at night yet, Babe. Just in case. I'm still having trouble getting around, and the pain pills make dizzy."

"No problem. Thank you for inviting me to stay. I really was too… uh… tired to drive home last night." She was looking down at her lap.

I decided that it was best to lay it all – okay, so part of it - on the line before she was totally awake. Or dressed and able to escape.

"Hector made a request yesterday, Babe." I figured this was the best approach to the whole partner/bodyguard thing. Maybe. "He asked me for a regular work partner a while back. I haven't assigned him one since he usually works only with electronics and alarm systems, and not in the field." I failed to mention that I hadn't wanted him to kill his partner in a fit of pique. " He would like to get out in the field. He requested you as a partner."

She started to say something but I held up my hand. "Let me finish. I know that you don't officially work for RangeMan right now. So, there are a few options. You could come back to work here full time. You could come back part time. You could be a contract worker. You could just stay with your job at Vinnie's. You could say no. That might get me killed." I wasn't kidding about that last part.

"Hector scares the shit out of me." At least she wasn't rejecting the idea. This was good.

"He scares the shit out of me, too, sometimes. But I think that you will work well with him. He likes you. Yesterday showed that." I paused, giving her a minute to think that over before I continued. "Do you trust me?" I had to hear it.

She didn't hesitate. "Absolutely."

"I wouldn't ask you to do this if I thought it wouldn't work out. Hector needs a partner in order to do what he wants. You want keep your independence, and you want to keep your job but make more money. This partnership would give you both what you want."

She didn't say anything right away. Her head was cocked to one side, and her expression said she was actually considering what I'd said.

"Hector doesn't speak English. How are we going to work together?" Perfectly valid question. I decided to tell her the truth on this one.

"Hector speaks English. I'm a little surprised myself, actually. I never knew until yesterday. While you were sleeping in his lap" - Her eyes got huge and she made a choking sound – "he and I had a chat. In English. Obviously he doesn't want anyone to know, so maybe you shouldn't let on that you know until he lets you in on his secret."

"Hector speaks English?" Clearly, she was having some trouble with this revelation.

"Yes."

"Oh. And he really asked to work with me?"

This was another one of those modified truth situations.

"The guys aren't entirely, um, comfortable with Hector. This makes him feel uncomfortable around them." I knew she would think the discomfort was due to his sexual orientation. It wouldn't do to tell her they were afraid he would slit their throats.

"Oh."

"He feels comfortable with you. He feels… I don't know… perhaps a connection with you. The man's had a hard life, Babe. But, like you, he's managed to keep up a positive outlook on life." With a healthy dose of violence thrown in as a stress release. "You'll be safe with him, personally, if that's what you're wondering."

I waited to see if she was going to answer me. I was half afraid she'd say no and leave. I'd tried to present the idea to her in a way that wouldn't make her feel threatened in any way. Or, worse, sound as though I was trying to make a decision for her.

"What if it doesn't work out? What if he gets sick of working with the laughingstock of Bond Enforcement Agents? What if he hates me? What if I get him covered in garbage? Or Vaseline? Or food? What if I embarrass him the way I embarrass myself? You have me listed under Entertainment in your budget. I don't think you and Hector have the same sense of humor." Wow. Lot of insecurity there. And more than a little fear, too. I cringed inside, feeling guilty for the budget thing. She'd taken it the way I'd meant for her to at the time. In truth, she was part of my Entertainment budget for a very different reason.

"I don't think there will be a problem. If there is, the three of us will sit down and talk about it. Together."

"Really?" Until she said that, I don't think I realized how very often people simply told her what to do. I was guilty of it myself. I thought for a minute about something she'd shouted yesterday.

"Really. What do you want to do, Babe?" Like magic, her face brightened. She flashed me a smile that lit up my whole room. My God, I love this woman.

"I want to try to work with Hector."

"Okay. Perhaps we could have a meeting later on today to hammer out details, if that's convenient for you. Dinner, maybe?"

She nodded. "Dinner is good. I have to go by the office and pick up my files. And I need to go home and feed Rex."

I didn't want her to leave, but at least I knew she'd becoming back. In for a penny, in for a pound I decided. "Will you bring Rex here and stay with me again tonight?"

Her face turned pink.

"Okay."

"Thanks, Babe." I squeezed her hand.

"Would you like to take Hector with you for the day, so you guys can start getting acquainted?" Please say yes. If nothing else, it would keep Morelli at bay, in case he changed his mind.

"Do you think he'd want to do that? I'm not going after anyone today."

Relief.

"I'll call and ask him while you get dressed."

Steph and Hector had headed out the door around eleven this morning. He told her that he spoke English, but asked her to not let on to anyone else. She'd agreed. Hector had offered to teach her Spanish, so that they would equally understand each other. Hector told her that he learned a lot from people who thought he spoke no English. The Wetback Ploy, he'd called it. Steph had laughed.

There had only been one glitch in the system this morning. Lula. Stephanie had a loose partnership with the woman, and she didn't want to hurt Lula's feelings by turning up with a regular - not to mention capable - partner. Hector told Steph that Lula was no problem. For a minute, I had wondered if Hector was going to kill Lula. He'd surprised me again, though. He told Stephanie that Lula would continue to ride with them whenever she wanted. She'd hugged Hector and kissed his cheek. Then they'd left for the day.

So, here I was, alone. They weren't due back until six, but they said they might come back earlier. So I had an indeterminate amount of time to work. I showered and changed, took my pills, and settled down to work. The only problem was that I couldn't focus on work. I finally gave up and went to sit on the couch with the lunch Ella had brought.

My plan to make Stephanie mine forever was going well so far. I had learned from Morelli's mistakes. I gave her choices and made requests. Morelli'd given her orders made demands. She now had a bodyguard in the guise of a partner, so she was more or less safe at work. I was actually a little surprised at how easily she'd been persuaded to take Hector. Maybe the simple act of asking her what she wanted meant more to her than I'd realized, even this morning.

I'd have to keep that in mind for tonight. I wanted her out of that damned apartment of hers. I wanted her someplace … safer. I knew she wouldn't want to move in with me. I also didn't want her to think I wanted her here for sex only. I'd spent a lot of time hiding my feelings from her. She needed time to adjust to my change in attitude. I also didn't want her to feel pressured. I wanted her to _choose_ to be with me. So, I needed options for her. That was going to take a little bit of thought.

For that matter, getting her to choose me while applying little or no pressure was going to be a challenge. I knew she cared for me. I also knew she had feelings for Morelli. I knew she loved us both, but I was relatively sure she loved us in very different ways. Besides, if she truly wanted the life he would offer her, she wouldn't have come to me so very easily. She would have fought him. Fought to keep him. I think her love for him was _comfort_ rather than _'til death do us part_ love. I hoped.

I loved her. Whole-heartedly and without reservations. I prayed that she felt the same – or would someday soon.

I needed to think and plan. I needed options and choices for her.

I picked up the phone.

They returned at a quarter to five. I could hear their laughter coming down the hall. It made me happy. It also flooded me with relief. Apparently they were getting along well.

They were chatting as they entered my apartment. I hauled myself off the couch to greet them. Hector was carrying Rex in his aquarium. Steph had a duffle bag that looked as though it was going to explode.

She spotted me and ran over. She took my breath away. I hugged her to me with my good arm as her arms wrapped around me, very gently. She rested her face on my chest. I looked at Hector over her head. He was smiling.

"Thank you, " I mouthed. Hector just nodded and went to put Rex in the living room.

"Good day, Babe?"

"YES! Thank you so much for letting me work with Hector. You were right – he's really kind." I didn't recall using the word 'kind' to describe the man, but I was happy to hear that she liked him. I didn't miss the fact that she said I _let_ her work with him, though.

"I didn't let you work with him. He requested. I asked. You chose, Babe." Hector had come back to the entryway, and he'd obviously heard this exchange. I looked over at him. He nodded. He would keep _my_ secret.

"Oh." I realized that she hadn't entirely grasped the fact that she had been allowed to choose this morning. I could see the change in her face when the truth hit her. I had offered options. She had chosen. She handed out another brilliant smile.

"What would you guys like for dinner?" More options for her. If she said she wanted Ben & Jerry's with Tastykakes, I'd send Ella to the store.

Hector looked at her. He was following my lead here, apparently. Smart man. Very, very smart. The last remnants of tension over this arrangement left my body.

"Um… I don't know. Not rabbit food. Maybe Mexican? Chinese? Nothing Italian." She thought for a minute. "What would you guys prefer?"

I was surprised. She was handing the choices back to us. Maybe I was on to something here.

"How about if I ask Ella to make burritos, enchiladas and tacos? That way, we can all pick and choose." Bingo. She was still grinning.

"Works for me."

Hector nodded his approval. I went to call Ella.

"Should I bring dessert, too, since you have company?" Ella asked. Good thing she thought of it.

"Sure."

"Okay. I'll have it all there in thirty minutes or so." Ella hung up.

Ella arrived with dinner. She set it all out on the dining room table. She put a covered cake plate on the counter. "Dessert," she'd said then left.

Here we were, the three of us sitting at my table. Having dinner. Chatting companionably. Hector was actually talking about himself. Stephanie was talking about herself. I surprised myself – and them – by contributing a few bits of knowledge about myself to the conversation. The food was great. The company was better. I tried to remember the last time I'd had a meal like this. I couldn't remember. It dawned on me that they felt like family to me – and that my apartment felt like _home_.

After dinner and dessert (chocolate cake – even I had a piece) we headed to the living room to discuss business.

"How'd it go today?" Two smiles. Steph started talking.

"We went to Pino's for lunch. We took Lula. We all went to the mall. I bought shoes. Hector bought boots. Lula bought spandex." No real surprise there, I thought.

Hector was nodding. "Nice shoes. You should ask her to see them. I had no idea that spandex was that stretchy." No one knew spandex was that stretchy until they saw it on Lula.

"So, good?" Twin nods. I smiled.

"How would you two like to work this? I gave Stephanie some possible options this morning, Hector. I thought I'd see where she stands. Then we can hammer out the details." It was taking a concentrated effort to make sure that I didn't let anything slip, or sound as though I was giving an order or making a demand.

Hector deferred to Stephanie.

"I'd like to have Hector as a partner permanently. I like him. I mean, I like you, Hector. I'm still not sure what to do about RangeMan, though. I know Hector is on your payroll, but I'm not sure I want to be." She looked a little nervous. I was willing to bet she was waiting for a blowup or an ultimatum.

"No problem, Babe." She relaxed. "You don't have to make that decision right now. Think it over and let me know what you want to do."

She nodded, looking thoughtful.

"So, you're telling me I can keep Hector, even if I don't work here?"

I nodded. Hector nodded. Steph nodded.

Hurdle number two, cleared. She'd agreed to try Hector as a partner, and now she was agreeing to keep him.

I was now facing hurdle number three. It had taken me half the afternoon to make the arrangements for the next round of choices. I hoped they would be acceptable. I took a deep breath and hoped I wasn't about to hang myself.

"Normally, new partners at RangeMan are required to live in the same space for six months. I feel that it's important for people who are going to be partners to really get to know each other's personalities, habits, and quirks. Not to mention building trust." Steph was looking a little panicked. Hector put his arm around her. She looked a little less panicked.

I continued. "I realize you don't work for RangeMan, Steph, so this is a little different. I'd still like you two to live like that for a while." Like, until I could get her to move in here with me. "I came up with a few ideas, so I thought we'd look at those. Then I'd like your input and we'll come to a decision together." She was nodding now. 'Together' was as magical as 'please,' apparently.

At her nod, I started talking again. "I have a two bedroom available here that I normally use for out of town clients. It's in the basement, because it also doubles as a safe house. If that doesn't work for you guys, we can arrange for an apartment or condo off site. I'm also open to other suggestions and ideas."

She looked at me speculatively. "This is important to you, isn't it, Ranger?"

I nodded. It was important. I had seen people get hurt badly when they didn't know and trust the person who had their back. Most people have no idea how much trust in your backup is required. If you don't – or can't – trust the person at your back, you were likely to make mistakes. So were they. Lack of trust made it harder to focus on the job at hand, too. I'd explain if I had to, but I wanted to see what she would do. Besides, I wanted her living in a safe place. If I had to give a little to get her there, I was game. Not happy about it, but willing to work on it.

"Okay. I'd like to clarify the options. We can move into this building, or we can move into something elsewhere, right?" I nodded. "What happens at the end of the six months? I don't honestly make enough to pay rent at my place as well as another, and I feel bad taking over a place you use for clients. That could interrupt your business."

"RangeMan will cover the rental expenses, should you choose to live off site. All you'd have to pay is the rent and utilities on the apartment you live in now. If you choose to live here, rent is a non-issue. I wouldn't have offered the apartment here if it would create a problem. We can put clients up in a hotel, and I have other safe houses. So don't feel bad about taking away from my business, because that's also a non issue." Please let her agree to stay here. She'd be that much closer to me. Hector was watching me carefully. I knew he knew what I was thinking, and I could tell he understood what I was doing. For that, I was grateful. It also opened up the possibility of him gently nudging her towards me. I thought he might end up having a lot of influence over her. That wasn't a bad thing, I decided.

"Hector?" She was looking at him now. I knew that he'd go along with whatever she wanted, but now I also knew he'd do his best to get her into the apartment here.

"I'd like to live here. I think it would be best since you wouldn't feel safe in my neighborhood and I wouldn't feel safe in yours. This is a neutral location for us both." I couldn't have come up with anything better myself. Thank you, Hector.

I was still a little bit surprised when she agreed. I was a lot surprised when she asked if they could move into the apartment as soon as I was able to stay alone at night.

"Of course. If you'd like, you can both take tomorrow to move your things in. I'll arrange for you both to have a van and a couple of guys to help you." She thought that one over for a bit, then shook her head. My heart sank.

"No. We'll take the van, but I think it would be better if Hector and I helped each other. Tomorrow, we'll pack and move Hector's things. Thursday we'll do the same at my apartment. I'll have to ask Dillon to look after things and let me know if there are any problems. I may sublet my place." The last was said almost to herself. I hoped that she would sublet that rattrap. I hoped that the new tenants would refuse to leave, giving me another way to keep her here with me.

"I'll have a utility van available to you guys by eight tomorrow morning, and it will be yours until you've both been moved in." I was relieved on a thousand different levels. She'd be safe with Hector during the day. She'd be safe with me – or at least in a secure building – at night.

I figured it was a moderately safe point to present her with a small hurdle. "You two will be issued a RangeMan SUV for work. Any preferences?" I didn't have to add that it would be trackable, equipped with GPS, a camera, a microphone, a built-in cell phone, a million different sensors, an alarm system, and specialized hardware.

Steph shook her head. "No. I am not a RangeMan employee, and I'm so not taking another of your vehicles. I have crappy luck with them."

I stifled a smile. Not the best time for a grin, I figured. "I'll issue the SUV to Hector then. He is currently a RangeMan employee. Again, any preferences?" I wasn't giving in on this one. I trusted Hector to take care of her, but I couldn't imagine him riding around in her little Mini with a skip and Lula, and there was no way she'd get into a car with a naked man on the hood. I hoped.

Hector took the decision out of her hands. "I think we'd look great in a Navigator, but an Explorer or a Bronco would be more practical." He was grinning, and I knew he was thinking about the damned hood of his car.

"As long as it's issued to Hector and not really my responsibility, I guess it would be okay." She wasn't happy about the vehicle, but she was willing to compromise in order to please Hector. Again, something good: compromise, fueled by choice.

I was getting the hang of this. One day, three big hurdles and one small one. That was impressive. "That's settled then," I declared. "You guys want to watch a movie?"

Steph produced the _Ghostbusters_ DVD from her duffle while Hector went to the kitchen to make popcorn. The three of us settled into the couch to watch the movie.

By the end of the movie, I was getting sore and tired. Hector went home. Steph went to get ready for bed. I hauled myself off the couch and went to get my pain pills. Steph was already in bed by the time I got there. She was lying there, looking at the ceiling. Obviously, there was something on her mind.

I climbed in next to her. "Penny for your thoughts."

"Why are you doing this?" Now that was a loaded question. I considered my answer carefully.

"I'm not really doing anything, Babe. Hector is an employee. He requested a partner some time ago. I've been unable to find a suitable match. Last night, he specifically requested you. I asked you if you would accept him as a partner because I believe that the two of you will work well together." Ha! I thought I dodged that bullet well.

"I understand you giving Hector what he wants. I guess I'm wondering why you're being so…. Reasonable with me." Shit. Maybe that bullet had clipped me after all.

"I know that my guys do their best work, most safely, when they have a partner they trust and respect. I haven't been able to give Hector that kind of partner, and he deserves one. I'm not being reasonable so much as logical. Hector wants you, so I want to find a way to make that happen that's agreeable to both of you. I don't want you to feel pressured or controlled, or like you're giving up your independence. So I'm doing my best to accommodate you and Hector." I hoped that would be enough of an explanation. I sure as Hell wasn't going to tell her the truth.

"Oh. I guess I'm having trouble with the concept of logic." She closed her eyes.

"Why, Babe? Logic is simple and straightforward. It's precise and specific. It makes sense." Her eyes opened and she turned to look at me.

"No one ever asks for my opinion. No one has ever asked me what I wanted to do. Everyone tells me what's best for me, what they want me to do. Until today, no one has ever used _logic_ with me." Ouch.

"I know, Babe. I'm sorry," I said. "You're right. We all want you safe, but we never offered you choices or options to keep you safe. We just told you what we wanted, what we thought was best. I heard you. I listened. So, I'm giving you what you asked for."

There were tears in her eyes now. Double shit. I found her hand and squeezed it. She just kept looking at me. Then the tears spilled out of her eyes and ran down her face. I slid my arm under her and pulled her to me. She rested her head on my shoulder and we lay there, me holding her, her crying softly. The tears stopped after a few minutes. I didn't say anything. I knew she hated to cry in front of me. I kissed her head.

"Thank you, Ranger." It wasn't even a whisper.

We were both up bright and early this morning. Neither of us brought up our conversation in bed last night. Ella brought her donuts again. Hector came for her at seven forty-five. I handed over the keys to the van and the apartment. They left for the day.

I made an effort to get some work done. Like yesterday, I found myself unable to concentrate for long. Unlike yesterday, though, I managed to get a decent chunk of work done before I retired to the couch.

Tank came up to see me at lunchtime. We talked about business stuff and he told me he'd bring some stuff up later that had just come in and needed my attention yesterday.

Business concluded, Tank looked at me. I knew what he wanted. I decided to make him ask. I'd volunteered entirely too much yesterday. I needed a break before I turned myself inside out.

"How is she?" I should have known that would be his first question.

"Better." Take that.

"Is she really working with Hector?" Ah, now we were getting down to what he really wanted to know.

"Yes." Take that, too.

"That safe?"

"Yes. I need you to get a Navigator for them to use. Have Al install all the bells and whistles"

Tank nodded. If he was surprised that I was issuing them a Navigator instead of the Broncos and Explorers everyone else got, he hid it well. "You sure about this, man?"

It was my turn to nod. "More sure than I've been about anything in a long time."

Tank sat there without saying a word for a good ten minutes. I was beginning to think he'd fallen asleep when he finally spoke.

"Proud of you, man."

He got up and left.

I must have crashed after Tank left. I had leaned back on the couch for a minute before I went back to work. That was the last thing I remembered.

I awoke to twilight, and I could just make out some papers on the coffee table. Tank must have been back up. I wondered why he hadn't woken me up. I wondered when Steph was coming home. I wondered what time it was.

Deciding to get some answers, I hauled myself off the couch. Not as much pain as two days ago, but enough. Ah. It was six thirty. I was reaching for the telephone when Steph walked in the door, followed by Ella and dinner.

"Hey, Babe."

"Hey, Ranger." She came and hugged me, like last night. God, I loved her coming home to me. I sent up another silent prayer that I wouldn't screw this up.

"How was your day, Babe?"

"I'm glad Hector wanted to move us in here. We don't live in the same world, he and I. I feel better about moving in here after seeing how differently we really live. I'd be miserable in a neighborhood where he'd feel comfortable, and he'd feel the same in a neighborhood of my choosing." I was glad that she'd come to that conclusion on her own.

"Any problems?"

"Nope. We packed up Hector's stuff and moved it all in." She stopped for a minute. "Did you know that he lives in a house with about a hundred of his relatives? And they have less food in the kitchen than I do."

"No, I didn't know." I hadn't known, but I wasn't surprised. Given his background, I was willing to bet that Hector was probably the only gainfully employed member of his family. I was a little surprised that he was supporting them all, though. His family hadn't done much for him. I made a mental note to arrange a hefty raise for Hector, effective immediately. And an apartment paid for by RangeMan when the six-month requirement completed. For some reason, not knowing that one of my employees was living at that level of poverty really bothered me. It also drove home the fact that I really hadn't made much of an effort to learn anything about the man. It was becoming apparent that he was a far better man than I'd originally thought - than anyone thought, really.

She carried the tray into the living room again, apparently preferring the coffee table to the dining room. I preferred it, too. It felt comfortable instead of formal. Besides the couch was softer.

We ate, chatting about the mundane details of our day. She told me about Hector's car. We laughed of the detail of the painting on the hood. I told her about the paperwork Tank had dropped off. Idle chatter. I couldn't believe how good it felt to just sit and talk about nothing.

After she put the tray back in the kitchen, she came back to the couch and sat down next to me. She reached out for my hand. I didn't move and I kept my mouth shut, afraid that if I did anything else she'd bolt. We just sat there, side-by-side, holding hands. I decided this was one of my new favorite ways to spend an evening.

"Ranger?"

"Yeah, Babe?"

"Do you think we could have Lula, Tank and Hector for dinner tomorrow night? Lula called me today and asked if we could all go out, but I know you're not up to that. I don't think I am right now either. But, I'll go out if you don't want them here."

"Of course they can all come here tomorrow." Anything for her. Well, with the possible exception of moving Grandma Mazur in with us. With me. Ugh!

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." Since it would keep her in my apartment - with me - for an entire evening, of course having friends come for dinner was fine with me.

"Thank you."

"Any time." I leaned over and kissed her, making a concentrated effort to mask the pain the movement caused.

"Would you like to invite Hector's boyfriend, too?" I wasn't sure Hector had mentioned him, but I thought she'd want to include him.

"Would you mind? I realize that it might be a little uncomfortable…" Her voice trailed off.

"Babe. We'll have two mercenaries, a former ho, a sexy female bounty hunter and a gay former gang-banger at the table already. I don't think Juan could possibly make dinner uncomfortable." She blushed at the sexy female bounty hunter comment.

"Good point. I'll call everyone in a few minutes."

I handed her the phone. "While you're at it, call Ella and tell her there will be six for dinner tomorrow night. She'll be thrilled. And ask for dessert, too. Whatever you want."

I lay in bed thinking for a long time after Steph fell asleep. I realized that her asking to have friends for dinner in a place she considered to be only mine had been hard for her. I also realized that, had the furniture been moved out of storage for the client apartment, we'd be eating there. I was grateful that she had felt confident enough to ask me about this. I hoped that it was only the beginning of life with her.

I'd loved her for a long time. I don't think I ever really believed she'd be here, with me. Granted, it was currently on a friendly and professional level, but that wasn't going to last forever. I had great plans for the rest of my life with her. I had every intention of making her happy and keeping her. I also intended to find a way to keep her safe 24/7/365 without smothering or controlling her.

She snuggled up to my side, like she did every night. I couldn't wait to heal, so I could hold her properly.

I stood in my bathroom, looking at the counter. Makeup. Hairspray. Gel. Combs. Brushes. Her toothbrush. Elastic bands and scrunchies.

I turned to my shower and saw her razor, shampoo and conditioner.

I knew she had, uh, feminine things hidden in the back of the cabinet under the sink.

In the bedroom, her clothes were tossed on the floor or laid over chairs.

My closets and dressers had been rearranged to make space for some of her things.

She had her own space in my dressing room.

The whole place looked like a woman lived here.

I decided it was a good look for my apartment.

Dinner was planned for seven. Stephanie and I were ready by six. Ella had, as predicted, been thrilled to cook for so many people, and for a second dessert request in one week.

Hector and Juan arrived a little past six. They were very obviously entranced with one another. Juan was a chef at one of the most exclusive restaurants in New York City. It was the kind of place you had to be invited to, or have a referral from a current client. They had a handful of tables and their client list was as closely guarded as mine. We handled all facets of their security. That was how Hector and Juan met.

I'd been a little worried about how Juan would treat Steph, but he was as taken with her as Hector was. I was pleased. More than pleased, really. I wanted to fill her life with people who would be supportive of her. I wanted to be the anchor for her support system.

Tank and Lula strolled in around a quarter to seven. They were holding hands and making eyes at each other. I was glad they'd gotten involved. Tank had been lonely. He was a handsome guy, but at his size, women feared him. Lula feared no man. They made a good match.

"Will you look at that?" Juan asked in Spanish. "I never knew spandex could stretch that far."

I chuckled and replied – in Spanish – "No one did, my friend." This got a chuckle out of both Hector and Juan.

Promptly at seven, Ella began serving dinner. Much to my astonishment, Stephanie helped her and played hostess. I was very pleased, and I gave her the full wattage smile when I caught her eye.

After dinner, we all retired to the living room to talk and relax. I put on the radio and turned the volume up just enough for the music to be soft background noise without drowning out conversations. Juan and Stephanie were parked on the couch with Hector and Tank. Steph was in Hector's lap. Lula had announced that she needed the powder room and asked me to show her the way.

"Hey Batman," Lula said softly. "You and me gotta talk." She had stopped in front of the bathroom door and was looking at me.

Shit. Lula wanted to talk to me? Why? Maybe she was pissed about Hector.

"Okay, Lula. Now, or another time?"

"Now." She leaned against the doorframe.

"Shoot." I hope she doesn't take that literally.

"She's a good girl, and she deserves better than Supercop. I bet you know why, and I bet she don't." I nodded. I knew. And she was right – Steph didn't know. I didn't ever want her to find out, either.

"You're right." That should cover everything, I thought.

"You know she loves you." It was a statement, not a question.

I looked Lula in the eye. "I hope she does."

Lula smiled at me. "I know she does. And I know your secret, too, Batman. She won't hear it from me though. But yo' ass better take good care of her."

I smiled back at her. "I'm doing my best."

"I know." She started to turn away.

"Lula?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay with Hector?" I really liked Lula. I thought she was a ballsy chick who deserved good things. I wanted to make sure she understood that Hector wasn't an insult to her.

"Damn skippy. He likes the mall and he don't bitch about eating donuts or McDonald's or Cluck In A Bucket! You picked a good one for her this time."

With that, Lula turned and entered the powder room. I returned to the living room.

It was a pleasant evening. Steph was vivacious and more animated than I'd seen her in a long time. She was having a blast and it showed. She was relaxed. She was in my home. She was entertaining _our_ friends in my home.

Life was good, with one exception. I wanted it to be our home. I looked up and caught Hector looking at me. He smiled a little and nodded.

"Algún día," he said. I nodded back. Someday soon, I hoped.

_Two weeks after Ranger came home…_

I'd been cleared to return to light exercise and surveillance work by my doctor. The sling was gone. The stitches and bandages had been removed. I'd stopped taking the pain pills, so I was cleared to stay alone at night.

Damn.

We'd fallen into a comfortable routine in the two weeks since she'd come to me. I did paperwork or watched the monitors in the control room during the day. She and Hector chased skips, installed security systems and surveillance systems and played with electronics. The three of us would have dinner together then Hector would go back to their apartment. She and I would spend the evening together, then she'd let me hold her all night.

Hector was right. They looked good together in the Navigator. Hector laughed when he saw it. Stephanie had turned white asked about bomb sensors.

Hector had taken her to Sunday Dinner at her parents' yesterday. He'd reported back to me that there had been a lot of questions. Her mother spent a good chunk of time trying to get her to quit her job. There had also been a lot of pressure put on her to return to Morelli. The man himself had shown up for dessert, at the invitation of her mother. He'd taken one look at Hector and asked to see Steph outside.

Hector told me the brawl was impressive. Morelli wanted to know if she'd come to her senses yet. She reminded him that he had sent her to me. He told her that two weeks was plenty of time to get me out of her system. She'd replied that it had been plenty of time to get _him_ out of her system, but it would ever be enough time to get _me_ out of her system. My heart had smiled when I heard that.

I think that was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, though. Morelli had blown a gasket. He'd screamed that he knew she'd left her apartment and was staying with me. He'd grabbed her and shook her, yelling at her that she was going to get her junk and move back in with him. She'd asked him to let go of her. He'd started dragging her to his truck. Hector had quietly stepped between the truck and them and told him to let her go, before there was a problem. Morelli had told him that there was no problem because he was taking his girl home. Stephanie lost it then. She wrenched herself away and started beating on Morelli the way she'd beaten on Tank the day I'd come home from the hospital. Tank had taken it better than Morelli. Morelli had knocked her down. Hector had broken Morelli's wrist. Morelli had informed Hector that he was under arrest. Hector had whispered to Morelli that if he arrested him, Stephanie would be given evidence of his indiscretions. Morelli had left then.

So, here I was, more or less able to return to my usual schedule. I had to tell Stephanie that she could move in with Hector tonight. I didn't want her to go. I loved having her here with me. I had greatly enjoyed two weeks of nights with her. Mornings with her. Dinners with her. _Time_ with her. Touching her, even though it almost drove me out of my mind. I dreaded the loneliness that would take her place. I knew I was being selfish.

I knew that she needed some freedom and space. She needed to be completely comfortable with her new partner. They had to learn to rely on each other. They had to fly together.

She had to explore her choices and options.

_I_ had to be her _choice_.

Part of me dreaded telling her for less selfish reasons, too. I feared that she might view me sending her to live with Hector as rejection, even though the arrangement had been made weeks ago. She could be relieved. She could be crushed. We'd come a long way – _she'd_ come a long way – and I was afraid of doing or saying something that would make her run from me.

I had already called Hector to tell him. He promised to feel her out today and let me know if he thought this would be a problem. One or two more nights wouldn't matter, if it would keep her from getting hurt.

I was dreading dinner for the first time since she'd come to me.

They came home just past five thirty. She looked like Hell. And she _stunk._

She walked past me to the bedroom. I could hear her muttering about _vomit on demand_.

"What happened?" I wasn't sure I really wanted to hear the answer to that question, but I didn't want to be in the dark.

"We had to go collect Franklin Jones today. He didn't want to go, and even I couldn't persuade him to come quietly. When we finally got him cuffed, he managed to vomit all over her. No warning. He just smirked at her and let loose. Then he tried to run. She was still holding on to him, so she got dragged down the stairs. She wouldn't let him go, she was so mad about the vomit thing. I caught up with them at the bottom of the first flight of stairs. Before I could make him sorry, she kicked him in the nuts with those heavy boots of hers. When we got him to the station, the desk sergeant laughed at her and called everyone ever to take a look at her. Then he tried to spray Lysol on her." Hector stopped for air, and looked around to make sure Steph was still safely out of hearing range. "Her shirt got ripped on the stairs. I saw her arms. Morelli had a tighter hold on her than I thought. She's got to be sore because of him. I'm going to kill him for doing that to her." Hector's hands were flexing, curling into fists and releasing. I could see the rage in his eyes. I had no doubt that if I gave the word, Morelli wouldn't live another ten minutes.

I shook my head. "I'll take care of Morelli. You take care of her. Do you think anything's broken?"

"He needs to be taught to stay away from her. I will let him live this time, for you. Next time, he will disappear. I don't think that either of her arms has a break, just a lot of bad bruising. Her shoulder is probably wrenched, maybe dislocated.. She landed hard when she fell on the stairs and won't let me look at her."

I expended a lot of energy controlling my rage at Morelli and Jones. I was more furious than I could ever recall being. _I_ wanted to kill Morelli, but I knew that it wasn't a sane thing to do. So I'd find a different way to deal with him. I was worried about her shoulder, too. I wasn't surprised that she wouldn't let Hector look at it, though. She had never liked feeling weak, and she would equate injury with weakness.

I put my hand on Hector's shoulder. "Thank you for watching over her for me. I'll keep her here tonight. Maybe she'll let me look her over."

"I think she will need you tonight, my friend." Hector surprised me by embracing me and leaving.

I went to check on Stephanie. I could hear the shower running. The bathroom door was unlocked, so I knocked and entered.

I almost had a heart attack.

Stephanie was on the floor, nude, laying on her right side. Her left arm was a swelling mass of black and purple. What I could see of her right arm looked just as colorful. I wondered how much damage was because of Morelli and how much was because of Jones. She wore one of my shirts to bed last night, and the sleeves had hung past her elbows, so I hadn't gotten a good look at her arms then. There were bruises all up and down her left side and leg, and a big scrape on that shoulder. No need to ask on which side she'd been dragged down the stairs.

She was sobbing. I felt sick. I felt the anger boil up from my gut. I wanted to hurt someone. I wanted to throw Franklin Jones down a set of stairs. Repeatedly. I wanted to kill Morelli. Maybe I'd rethink keeping Hector away from him.

"Babe?" I spoke softly and moved slowly. I was afraid to scare her. The closer I got to her, the worse the bruising looked. Bile rose in my throat. Christ. Her bruises had bruises. I could see a few places where there was a lot of swelling. She was also covered in scratches, and she had floor burn on her left hip.

"God, Babe…" I covered her with a bath sheet and turned the shower off. I filled the bath instead. I added a liberal amount of Epsom salts and threw some towels over the near side of the tub to make a soft pad for her to lean against. I knew that the swelling should be iced, but I figured being clean would do her a world of good at this point. The ice could wait.

When the tub was full, I carefully lifted her off the floor. It was a struggle not to jar her because I was still stiff and sore myself. I froze at her gasp of pain and guilt flooded me. Shit. Shit. Shit. I wanted to make someone pay for this.

I gently placed her in the tub, leaning her back against the padding. She just sat there. She was still crying. She hadn't so much as looked at me. She hadn't fought me. She didn't seem to care what I did. I rolled up my sleeves and knelt down by the tub. I very carefully washed her body, watching for anything that looked as though it might be broken. She flinched when I ran my hand across her shoulder, but it didn't look or feel displaced. Thank God for small favors. I washed and conditioned her hair, carefully feeling her scalp for bumps or cuts.

The whole time I washed her, I spoke to her softly in Spanish, the way Hector had. It had worked then, and I was hoping it would work now. I told her about my day. I told her that I loved her. I told her how much I enjoy having her here with me. I told her I look forward to seeing her again as soon as she leaves my sight. I told her how much I love having her in my arms and in my bed every night. I told her how grateful I was that the damned sling was gone, because tonight I'll be able to hold the way I want to, the way she deserves. I knew she wouldn't understand a word I was saying, but I felt better telling her. She relaxed a little more with every word I said. I combed out her hair while she soaked in the tub. When the water began to cool, I let some out and added more hot water. Finally, her eyes drifted shut.

I cleaned up the water that had ended up on the floor when I rinsed her hair. No point in risking a fall – for me or her. When the floor was dry, I decided it was time to get her out of the tub. I couldn't leave her in there all night. She needed to eat. She needed to sleep. She needed to talk. She needed to be held. She needed reassurance. Not necessarily in that order.

I drained the water and grabbed a bath sheet. I lifted her out of the tub, again struggling not to hurt her. Ouch! I had forgotten how long a cracked rib takes to really heal. I wrapped the sheet around her and carried her to the bedroom. I flipped the covers back with my foot and slid her in the bed, removing the wet bath sheet with the same movement. I pulled the covers over her and went to get a dry towel for her hair.

I called Ella to request dinner early. She had soup and sandwiches at my door in five minutes flat. There were two slices of chocolate cake on the tray. That made me smile.

I thanked Ella and returned to the bedroom. Stephanie was exactly where I had left her. I put the tray on the bed and sat down.

"Bad day, Babe?" The tears started again. Double shit. "Everybody has bad days, Babe. Remember when the porn shop old lady nailed Tank in the nuts?" I was rewarded with a strangled giggle.

"Tank never gets covered in vomit, or garbage, or food, or Vaseline, or anything else I always seem to end up covered in." She had a point.

"Hey you've been with me when I've had food thrown at me!"

"Yeah, but it didn't stick to you!" Actually, I had dodged the projectiles and simply had not been hit with much of anything. I wasn't going to tell her that, though.

"Sure it did. Black hides it better." Liar! I thought.

Her voice was very soft when she finally spoke again. "You're the boss. Even if you end up covered in raw sewage, you'll have a partner. Hector will never want to work with me again after today!" So that was the problem. I should have known.

"Yes he will. While you were in the bathroom, he told me that he was impressed by the way you handled the whole situation. Hector admitted that he would have had to stop and puke himself, so the skip would have gotten away." Another lie but I thought the truth might not be the best thing for her right now. If the guy had puked on Hector, he'd be dead.

"Ranger, I can't work for you. I can't embarrass you and your guys and your company."

"You don't have to work for me, Babe. And you don't embarrass me or my guys, and you certainly don't embarrass my company." I wanted her to work for me, but this was an area where I was willing to give a little in order to keep her both safe and with me. It was back to the pressure-and-choices dilemma.

"Hector works for you, though!" She had me there. Sort of.

"Yes, he does. Do you remember me telling you that Hector was yours, no matter where you worked?" A nod. "I meant that. I made a promise to him, and a promise to you. It's not a promise I plan to break. You don't have to work at RangeMan. You get to keep Hector. He's happy with you as a partner. Are you happy with him?"

Another nod. "I just feel so guilty…. I take so much from you and I don't give anything back. I use your apartment. I blow up your cars or get them stolen. I break the Merry Men. Now you've given me a Merry Man to work with, and he comes with another expensive car."

I was stunned. Did she really think she only took?

"Babe… Do you not see how much you give? Without your willingness to take a chance, Hector would have no partner. He'd still be stuck doing menial stuff for RangeMan that he could do by himself. Look at Lula. You saved her life and, through you, she met Tank. You gave up your apartment for your sister and her family. Look at Grandma Mazur. You take her to viewings, shopping, to the hair place – no one else would. You helped the Chip lady…. Carol, was it? What about Mooner and Dougie? You found them and saved them both! And look at Melvin Pickle!" I wasn't sure I was making an impression, here. Her eyes were still wet.

"Those are other people, Ranger. They're not you." Damn I'd hoped to put this off a little longer, until she was feeling more secure and comfortable with me.

"Babe… Do you have any idea what you've given to me?" I asked in a whisper.

That got her attention. Her eyes came up to meet mine. Her mouth opened. She shook her head. "I don't think I give you anything beyond entertainment, Ranger."

That stung. Unfortunately, it was my fault she thought such a thing.

I looked at her hard. "During the Ramos thing, only two people called to ask if I was okay: you and Tank. You give me something no one but Tank has even offered in more years than I care to think about. You give me something no woman – not even Rachel – has _ever_ given me. You gave me your friendship. That means more to me than I can say. You see past the image, and you see the man. You see me. You give me your trust. You care for me. You give me part of you."

The tears started again. Maybe I'd said the wrong thing….

She launched herself into my arms. Maybe I'd said the right thing after all. I wrapped my arms around her and held on tight. Relief flowed through me.

"Thank you, Babe, " I whispered into her hair. "I've never said thank you. I've never said a lot to you. I'm sorry. I'm going to try to be better about that." It was a promise.

"It's okay, Ranger."

We just sat there, holding on to each other until the room was dark.

_One month after Ranger came home…_

Steph had moved downstairs a week and a half ago. I hadn't had a good night sleep since. Neither had she, judging by the dark smudges under her eyes.

I missed her living in my apartment like crazy.

I saw her every day. I had meals with her. I had time with her. It wasn't the same as coming home to her, or having her come home to me. It wasn't the same as having her _here_.

It's going to be a long six months.

As hard as it was to let her go, I knew that freedom and support was just what she needed. Hector had worked miracles. He had accomplished more with her in the past month than I'd been able to in the past few years. He'd also pulled off things I'd never thought anyone ever could.

He had her exercising every damned day. Instead of making her run or go to a gym, he signed them up for dance lessons. Right up her alley: she didn't view dancing as exercise.

He'd also pulled off what I considered to be a miracle: she was armed with loaded guns whenever she left the RangeMan building. She was also carrying a knife, defense spray, stun gun (charged!), more than one pair of cuffs, and a six cell MagLite. She managed to make her Kevlar vest look good – especially since she started wearing that, too.

Yes. Guns, plural. Loaded, too. Of course, they weren't all the kind of guns that I carried.

Hector had set her up with a paintball pistol. Only, it wasn't loaded with paintballs. It was loaded with the type of pepper-filled balls used in prisons to quell riots. I didn't ask where he'd managed to get her a supply of those. They hadn't come from my armory. He'd modified a gun that shot beanbag projectiles so that it fit comfortably on her utility belt. He'd acquired a weapon that fires nets for her, too.

Basically, he'd outfitted her with a non-lethal armament that she felt comfortable with. In return, she was carrying a Sig that was issued to her by RangeMan. They spent at least thirty minutes a day at the gun range, practicing with various targets and weapons. For the range, the pepper balls were exchanged for water-soluble paintballs. She was a good shot when she kept her eyes open, which she was doing all the time now.

I was proud of her.

Her confidence was growing. She was no longer nervous around the Merry Men, and it showed. She was feeling so comfortable that when Lester told her she was no fun any more because she hadn't blown up anything in ages, she shot him with a net. It took him ten minutes to disentangle himself. Everyone was on the floor, laughing at him. Steph had smiled and asked him how it felt to be the joke. Since it happened inside the building, it was on tape. Hal made sure Steph got a copy of that tape.

Only two days ago, on Wednesday, she and Hector had started taking the mid-range skips. RangeMan would now only take skips worth at least twenty large. Steph and Hector would be taking the five to twenty range FTA's. This left Lula with all bonds that paid out less than five grand.

I'd asked to speak to Lula outside the office when I'd brought in RangeMan's body receipts. "Lula, if you need help, you can call Tank if Steph is unavailable. I've already let him know. If he's also unavailable, someone will be sent to help you."

"You tellin' me I can call my man for help? And if he can't come, you'll send one of the Merry Men?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you, Lula."

She beamed at me. "Thank you, Batman. I was wonderin' what to do if my Girl was busy."

"My pleasure. You've been good to her, and you've been good for Tank. You've earned the same privileges I've afforded Stephanie. You'll always have backup."

Lula hugged me. "You been good to her – and for her. Don't think I don't see. I appreciate you loanin' me Tank." I think she blushed.

"No problem." I handed her a RangeMan card. "These are the private extensions and cell numbers for the guys. My cell's on there, too. You need anything, you let me know."

"I don't know what to say Batman. That's awful nice of you."

"Hey. Tank's been my best friend for years. He's a good man who's been looking for a good woman to love him. Most women won't get near him unless they're, uh, well paid. He's been happier than I've ever seen him since he's been with you." This time, I was sure she blushed. "Besides, you're one of the few people who's supported and helped Steph. I appreciate that more than you know."

Lula looked at me and nodded. "I appreciate you tellin' me that 'bout Tank. That girl saved my life in more ways than one. Damn skippy I'm gonna support her and help her."

"She's good at saving people, isn't she?" I meant this very differently than I intended Lula to think.

Lula looked at me thoughtfully and turned to go back into the bonds office. "She is if you let her, Batman." She stepped inside and the door closed behind her.

Damned if she wasn't right, too.

Hector was going away with Juan for the weekend. I was sitting in my office, working up the courage to call Stephanie and ask her out. I hadn't asked a woman out since I was a kid. I think it's something that gets harder with age.

It was especially difficult with her. We had a strange relationship. We were friends and co-workers, and for one unbelievable night, she had been my lover. Now, I wanted more, and I wasn't sure how to shift the relationship from _friends and co-workers_ to _exclusive friends and lovers_. We were also on strangely intimate terms, and that somehow made asking her for a date feel something like going backward instead of forward.

I took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

"Yo." I love it when she does that.

"Babe."

"What's up, Ranger?"

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?" I'd managed to ask her out and my voice hadn't cracked.

"We always eat dinner together." Shit. She was right.

"I mean _out_. Like a date."

"Date?" Her voice cracked. That made me feel better.

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes." There was a pause. It went on for a full minute.

"Then yes." Whew. I'd been afraid she's say no.

"I'll pick you up at seven, if that's all right with you." Another choice. Of course, if she said seven was bad, it could screw up the reservations I'd made at the restaurant where Juan worked, but I was pretty sure they'd shuffle things for me…

"Seven is fine."

"Dress up, Babe. We'll be going to Dom's. See you at seven. Bye, Babe." I hung up. I knew it drove her crazy when I hung up on her, but I also knew she'd be thrown by the fact that I'd actually ended a call, instead of just disconnecting.

I was outside their apartment at five minutes to seven. I knocked. Hector opened the door.

"Looking good, Ranger." I was wearing a black raw silk suit, custom made and tailored. Not only did it fit perfectly, but it hid the guns and knife I was carrying.

"Thanks. She ready?" Hector shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"She's been trying on dresses since we got home at three twenty. I finally went to Macy's and picked something up. She's putting it on now."

Judging by the grin on his face, it was going to be one Hell of a dress.

I heard the door to her bedroom open. I stepped back a little, so that I could see her before she saw me.

"Do I look okay, Hector?" I could hear the anxiety in her voice.

Hector stood up as she stepped into the room.

"You look beautiful. I knew that dress would be perfect on you." Hector spun her around, so that I could see her. She still hadn't noticed me.

My God. The dress was a shimmering gold fabric. The color brought out the blue in her eyes and the golden highlights in her hair. It was a simple cut that clung to her curves. It had spaghetti straps and nearly reached her knees. It was actually conservative for her, but she looked absolutely stunning. Her shoes were the same gold as the dress. Her hair was in loose curls around her face. She wore minimal makeup.

She took my breath away and made my heart pound. I cleared my throat, not trusting myself to speak.

She turned to me and grinned. "Like what you see?" She twirled around.

I nodded and held my hand out to her. "Very much. I like what's inside the package even more."

Her cheeks turned pink and she took my hand. I shot a look at Hector. He was grinning so hard I thought his face might freeze like that. He shooed us out.

I walked her to the elevator and we got out in the garage. I walked her to the Mercedes and opened the door, handing her in. I went to the driver's side door and took a deep, cleansing breath before I got in. She looked great in the dress; I kept imagining taking her out of it. I had to cool off or it was going to be a _very long_ evening.

I slid into the seat and started the car. Steph smiled at me. I turned the key again and jumped when I heard the grinding sound the starter made because the car was already running. I looked over at her, feeling sheepish.

"Nice to know I'm not the only one who does that," she said. I grinned at her and had the satisfaction of seeing a hitch in her breathing.

Normally, when I'm driving, I think. Steph calls it my 'zone.' Really, I use the time to sort out problems, plan takedowns, and go over things that will need to be dealt with at the weekly meeting. I decided to skip that this evening and try to talk with her.

"You look beautiful tonight, Babe," I said, sneaking a sidelong glance at her. Wow.

""It's the dress."

"Without you filling it out, it would be just a piece of lifeless cloth."

Her face turned beet red. "Thank you."

"I meant what I said, you know. The wrapping is nice, but it doesn't hold a candle to what's inside." I heard her gasp. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her head snap around to look at me.

"What's going on here, Ranger? You've been very… open with me lately."

"What's going on here? I've finally asked out the woman to whom I have been extremely attracted for a very long time. I'm thrilled because she agreed to a date with me. In the past, I've heard multiple complaints about my lack of conversational skills, among other things. I'm making an effort to impress the lady." Without taking my eyes off the road, I caught her hand and brought it to my lips. I kissed her hand and let our hands fall to the seat between us. I didn't let hers go.

"Oh. You're attracted to me?" She knew damned well I was, but she wanted to hear it.

"Yes. Very attracted. To your mind, your heart, your soul, your personality, your body… I'm attracted to the whole package." Let her think about that one.

She didn't say anything for a long time. When she did, it wasn't what I expected.

"Why? I'm a disaster."

"You're not a disaster. You're different. That's not a bad thing." This is the truth.

"If different isn't bad, then why do so many people who care about me spend so much time telling me how wrong I am?"

"I suppose that they just want you to be happy. They're happy with what they have, so that's what they want for you. What they have isn't going to make you happy, though, is it?"

She shook her head. "No. It's not."

"What will make you happy, Babe?"

Her mouth opened and closed several times. She did a good fish impression. "What do you want from me?"

A year ago, six months ago, two months ago, I would have answered this question differently. "I want whatever you are willing to give me, Babe. But that doesn't answer _my_ question."

"I want to be happy. I want someone who doesn't try to change me. I want a secure relationship with a man who wants me for more than sex. I want someone to love me on my worst days, not just my best. I want…" Her voice trailed off.

"Got the guy picked out?" I mentally crossed my fingers.

She nodded.

I waited.

She looked away and my heart stopped.

"Who is he, Stephanie?" I could barely get the words out.

"He's someone I can't have."

I let out the breath I'd been holding. If she'd chosen Morelli, that wouldn't be a problem.

"Who, Babe?" Please. Just say it.

"I want you."

I crossed two lanes of traffic and pulled over to the side of the highway and slammed the car into Park. I turned to her and took her face in my hands. Her eyes were shiny and she was biting her lip.

"I'm yours."

She just stared at me with a shocked expression on her face.

"_What_?"

"I'm yours. I thought about you, about this, in the hospital. I realized that _not_ having a relationship with you failed to keep you safe. I've wanted you – the whole package – since day one. I didn't make a move because I wanted to keep you safe. Then you were with Morelli. I thought you'd be safe. But you weren't…" I couldn't finish. I had to shut myself up. Now. I rested my forehead against hers and closed my eyes.

"Why did you send me back to Morelli?"

I decided to tell her the truth. "I wanted – want – you to be happy. I thought Morelli could and would give you what you wanted. I thought he could make you happy. That's what I want for you. Happiness. Even if you find happiness with someone else."

"He never really made me happy." My eyes snapped open and it was my turn to stare, slack jawed, at her.

"What?"

"He was comfortable because I've known him my whole life. He represented acceptance in the Burg. I love him dearly, but he never really made me happy. We always wanted different things."

"I'm so sorry, Babe. I wish I had known."

"It's not your fault. It was my fault. I kept going back to him, even though I knew it would never work. He wants a housewife. He doesn't really want me. He just wants my body. He doesn't want the whole package. I can't love him the way he wants, because I'm not really the woman he wants."

"I want you just the way you are." I pulled her into my arms and kissed the top of her head. Her arms wrapped around me and she pressed her face into my chest.

So much for taking her out on a nice date. This was getting far more emotional than I'd planned. This felt remarkably like laying my soul bare. It was hard, but it felt right.

"Thank you." She was saying that a lot lately.

"So you want to go out, or home, Babe?" She was still wrapped in my arms, and I was loath to let her go. Part of me wanted to take her out as planned, but a bigger part of me wanted a quiet evening alone with her at this point. With effort, I managed to let her go and I took her hand again.

"I want to go home, please. With you."

"Are you sure?" Home sounded good to me, but anyplace with her was better than some place without her.

"Yes. I'm feeling… just feeling too much to go out tonight. I'm sorry."

"I'm not sorry. I'm feeling the same way. How about if we pick something up on the way home and just spend the evening together?"

"Really?"

"Really. Anything you want." Even if she wanted chocolate cake for dinner with ice cream for dessert. Anything she wanted.

"That sounds good to me."

I got off at the nearest exit. I got back on the highway, heading back towards Trenton. I was still holding her hand. I had no intention of letting go.

We ordered Chinese take out on the way home. When we pulled up to the restaurant, I made no move to get out of the car. I called in and asked them to bring our order out to my car. I handed the teenaged boy who brought it out a fifty. He looked at me. I told him to keep the change, then rolled up the window and drove away.

When we got back, I scrambled the cameras in the elevator before we got in. I was feeling exposed and vulnerable, and she was looking like I felt. No need for the boys see both of us like this. When we stepped off at the seventh floor, I handed her the bag of food and opened the door one-handed; I still hadn't let her hand go. She wasn't complaining.

I didn't turn on any lights. I brought her in and seated her on my couch. I let her hand go long enough to get us both bottled water. When I got back to her, I grabbed her hand again. I was feeling very... possessive.

Once I managed to get all the cartons opened, I pulled her into my lap. I grabbed a carton of food and started feeding her. Some for her, some for me. We worked our way through the entire meal this way. Together, in the minimal light provided by the electronics in the apartment.

When the food was gone, she leaned back against me and I wrapped my arms around her middle.

"Are you happy, Steph?" I rarely called her by her first name, afraid that if I did, the world would see what I felt for her. Saying her name out loud brought back the night I'd spent with her. It felt intimate. But here, right this minute, it was only the two of us, and it felt safe.

"Right now?"

"Right now."

"I'm happy, but I'm nervous. I'm half-afraid this is a dream and I'm going to wake up." I knew how she felt.

"I promise you this is not a dream."

"Are you happy, Ranger? Right now."

"I'm happier than I've been at any time in my life. But then, I'm always happy when I'm with you."

"Me, too."

"You're happy when you're with you?" I asked with a smile. I knew what she meant, but I knew that would make her giggle, and I love it when she giggles.

She didn't disappoint me.

She giggled.

"I'm happy when I'm with you, and you know it!" I did.

I shifted her in my lap and gently, reverently, kissed her.

"What do you want, Steph?" I wanted to be her choice, and I wanted to hear it from her lips.

"From you, from work, or from life in general?" Good question. Mostly, I wanted to know what she wanted from me, from us, but the rest was important, too.

"All of the above."

"That's tough. I like the way work is going lately. I like working with Hector. I like having a healthy bank account for a change, and I can't say it hurts my feelings that I haven't blown anything up for a while – especially my car. I guess I want work to keep going more or less the way it's going."

"I can understand that. You're doing well. You have a good, permanent partner. You're making good money. Since you have a solid partnership with Hector, you don't have to take some of the crazier risks you used to have to take. Also, Hector inspires the psycho nut jobs to steer clear of you."

I could feel her giggle again. "Yeah, he does have a subduing effect on people. I don't think I've had to come home to change my outfit more than twice since I started working with him. I haven't been shot at lately, either." All good things, I had to admit.

"So, you're happy with work. Have you given any thought to working at RangeMan?" I was hoping she had. I had really loved seeing my name on her chest, and I would love to see it there again.

"I've thought about it, but I'm still not sure what to do. I'm half afraid to work for you because Vinnie might start giving Lula skips she can't handle alone. I'm also terrified to blow up another one of your cars. And a big part of me is still afraid to embarrass your company. Or worse, you."

"Is that all? I can arrange to have your bond range added to RangeMan's contract. I could also have a separate contract drawn up between you, Hector, Vinnie, and RangeMan. I told Lula that she could call Tank for backup, so don't worry about that; I'll make sure Vinnie doesn't get her killed. If I don't, Tank will kill me _and_ Vinnie. The Navigator is issued to Hector, and nothing's happened to that. We can leave it that way, so you won't be responsible for a company vehicle, if you want. You won't embarrass my company or me; if anything, you'll improve our image. You know, make us look less like a gang of thugs."

She started laughing. "You've got this all planned out don't you?" I held my breath. Shit. How did she find out? I'd tried to be so careful, to give her choices so that she wouldn't bolt… "Is the offer to work here part time still open?" I started breathing again.

"I don't have anything planned out, really. I'm just hoping. Of course the offer is still open; I told you to take your time and think it over. I meant that. I don't want to push you." Well, I wanted to, but I knew it wouldn't end well, so I tried to control myself.

"Then I'd like to accept a part time position with RangeMan. Would it be a problem to do a separate contract?" Hell, no. I'll get my lawyer out of bed right now….

"Welcome aboard. It's no problem to have a separate contract drawn up. Is Monday acceptable to you?" Or now.

"Anytime is fine. Whenever."

"Okay. I'll call my lawyer Monday morning. Now, what about the rest of your life? And me?"

She was quiet, thinking about her answer for a long time.

"I don't know exactly what I want out of life. I do know what I don't want, though."

"What _don't_ you want?"

"I don't want the Burg. I don't want a white wedding and 2.5 kids just to please my husband. I don't want to have to give up _me _to please everyone else. I guess I want to be accepted and loved for who I am, not who people want me to be."

I kissed her head. "That's a healthy attitude. And you should be loved and accepted for who you are. You're right to not give up yourself to please other people."

"That's easier said than done, though. For my whole life, my mother has pushed me to be my sister. I married Dickie to please her. I almost married Joe to please her. I know she loves me, but it really bothers me that she won't just accept me, as myself. It hurts." I could hear tears in her voice, and I squeezed her tighter.

"I know it's hard to be different, Steph. I know it's hard to find people to take you as-is. I know how much it hurts when the people closest to you are the ones who try the hardest to change you." I loosened my hold on her and tilted her face up to mine. "I love you, just the way you are, Stephanie. So do a lot of other people. Hector. Tank. Lester. Lula. Connie. Bobby. Cal. Even Vinnie. Hell, now that he's gotten over the stun gun thing, even Hal likes you. Jesus, one of the best chefs in the world likes you so much he cooks for you, in your home."

She sniffled. "Juan cooks for Hector, not me."

"Honey, believe me, if Juan didn't like you, he wouldn't cook for you. We're talking about a man who refused to cook for the President of the United States, because he doesn't like the man's policies."

I heard her gasp. "You're kidding. He refused to cook for _the president_?"

"Yes he did. And, the president's not the only VIP Juan refuses to cook for. He's temperamental, but he's so good that his boss will never fire or reprimand him. So, when I tell you Juan likes you, you can damn well believe it."

"Wow. I had no idea. He's always so nice to me."

"He can be very nice… to people he likes. Hector loves you, and Juan sees that you're good to and for Hector, so Juan likes you. Besides, you've got a winning personality. It's hard to _not _like you."

"Do you like me?" She's got to be kidding. I just told her I loved her, and she's asking if I like her?

"I like you so much that I'm in love with you."

"Oh."

She settled back into my arms after that, lost in thought. Just when I thought she must have fallen asleep, she spoke again.

"How do you love me? You've said that you love me before, but you've always qualified it. I don't know what to say I want from you, because I'm really not sure what you want."

This was going to be very hard for me to say. While I think a lot, I'm not a verbally demonstrative man. Physically demonstrative, yes, but saying what's in my head doesn't come easily for me. "I love you completely. I always qualified what I said to you because I was afraid of letting you get too close to me. I was afraid that if you got close to me, you would be a target. The things is, you're a target in your own right. So, being in a relationship with each other is not going to increase the target factor for you or me."

I could feel her nodding against my chest. "I can understand that. I can understand wanting to keep the people you love safe."

"That's what I was trying to do. Didn't do me a lot of good though, did it?" I asked a little bitterly. "You've been a target because of me more than once, and we weren't anything other than friends. At least publicly."

"It's the job, Ranger. I wasn't just a target because you and I were friends. I've been a target because I'm a bounty hunter and a woman. That's put me in harm's way more than anything else."

"That's true. But I'll always feel as though some of the psychos were my fault."

She snorted. "Right. Because I never attract them on my own."

"Got a point, there, Babe."

"I know."

"You really want to know what I want?"

She paused before answering me. "Yes. I want to be clear about this. I don't want mistakes or miscommunication. I'm feeling a little shell-shocked tonight, and I'm feeling too emotional. I'm afraid to commit my heart and have it handed back to me. I've never given my heart away, you know. Not to Dickie and not to Joe, and not to anyone else."

My gut clenched at the idea of her thinking about giving her heart to me. I held on to her tightly and moved her face up to mine so I could look her in the eye again. "I want you, just the way you are, forever. I want you in every facet of my life. I want to wake up with you every morning, work with you, have meals with you, laugh with you, make love with you, sleep with you, comfort you when you've had a bad day, take care of you when you're sick, celebrate with you when you have a good day... I want to live my life with you. I want to love you. I want to hold your heart, and I want you to hold mine. I want everything, Babe. Whatever you want from me, I'll give you if it's within my power to do so."

Her eyes were filled with tears again. What was it with me making her teary lately? It made me feel like crap when she cried, and it made me feel worse when it was my fault.

"I want the same things you want, Ranger." I kissed her then. It was a deep, passionate kiss. I felt her melt into me. I was having trouble breathing by the time we broke apart.

"Stay with me tonight, Steph. We'll do whatever you want. I just want to be able to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up the same way. If that's all you want to do tonight, that's all we'll do. No pressure. Anything you want. But please stay."

She looked up at me. What little air I'd managed to suck in rushed out of my lungs. "I'll stay. I don't know what I want for the whole night, but sleeping in your arms sounds damned good to me."

I scooped her into my arms and got up off the couch. I headed for the bedroom.

We took turns washing up and getting ready for bed. When we finally crawled into bed, she slipped into my arms without hesitation. I pulled her close, wrapping her securely in my arms. I kissed her again.

"I love you, Steph."

"I love you, too, Ranger." Funny how my name sounded so much better on her lips than anyone else's…

I shivered involuntarily at the bolt of lust that shot through me. I mercilessly tamped it down, not wanting her to feel pressured or uncomfortable. I wanted to give her whatever she wanted tonight…even if it killed me. Maybe kissing her again hadn't been my best idea tonight.

She moaned softly and snuggled in closer.

Oh, my God. It was going to be a long night….

I awoke before my alarm, which wasn't unusual for me. There was not even a hint of light outside. It had to be damned early…

Waking up to Steph kissing me was unusual. Well, her kissing me while she was wide awake and in bed with me was unusual. She'd done it before, but she hadn't been totally awake. Come to think of it, I was pretty sure I'd started it those other times….

I opened my eyes and gently pushed her back a little. I looked at her. She was awake. "You sure? It's forever this time, Stephanie."

Her eyes widened. She nodded. "Oh, yeah…" Then she started kissing me again. Her hands started running up and down my body.

I kissed her back and allowed my hands to roam.

I had us both stripped naked in no time.

I kissed her _everywhere_.

I decided this was the best way to start my day…

When I woke again, it was light outside. Steph had woken me up around three. We'd made love for a couple of hours, then we'd drifted off, still wrapped around each other.

I decided it was time to get us out of bed before we spent the whole day here. Not that I'd mind, but I didn't want Steph to feel as though I only wanted her body.

"Babe." I shook her shoulder a little. No response. I shook it again. "Babe!" A little louder. I didn't dare call her by name, or else we'd never get out of here.

She snuggled closer. Clearly, getting her out of bed was going to require a little creativity.

"Breakfast."

Her eyes opened. "Ella's here?"

"No. It's Saturday. No Ella."

"Then where's breakfast?" She really does have a one-track mind where food is concerned.

"Shorty's"

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

"Can I get waffles?"

"If you ask him nicely, then you probably can. But I'm leaving in fifteen minutes."

She flew out of bed and ran for the bathroom. I had no idea she could move so fast.

Three minutes later, she was digging through drawers and closets for clothes.

"Why didn't you just send all my stuff downstairs?" She asked, frowning, after realizing how much of her clothing remained in my apartment.

"Liked it here."

"Why?" Jesus, she asks a lot of damned questions.

"Because." She rolled her eyes at me. "Because having your things here makes it feel a little like you're still here." I finally admitted quietly.

"Do you really like having me and my mess here?"

"Yes."

That shut her up and she finished dressing. We headed for the garage. I decided to take the truck today. The Mercedes was too tempting to the residents in the neighborhood where Shorty's resides.

Shorty was happy to see us. He was especially happy with the beautiful smile Steph turned on him when she asked, very nicely, for waffles. He made her a huge stack of them, gave her real butter, and put a small bottle of real maple syrup next to her plate. She started eating. Three bites in, She turned to Shorty and said, "I love you." Then turned back to her food and cleaned the plate.

He stared at her. He looked a little… stunned. She's really vocal about enjoying her food. But then, she's really vocal about everything she enjoys… I shook my head to clear it. Best not to go there right now.

Shorty looked at me. I looked back and smirked. He walked back to the kitchen to make her more waffles.

I ate buckwheat pancakes, with fresh fruit on top. I had a cup of coffee with her. Well, I had one. She had six.

She ended up eating two plates of waffles, smothered in butter and syrup. I could hear her arteries hardening. When she finally finished, Shorty told her she could come back anytime. When she thanked him for making her the best waffles she'd ever eaten, he'd hugged her and told her it was his pleasure.

Something told me Shorty's was going to be added to her list of favorite restaurants.

"Come on, Babe. We got stuff to do." I finally dragged her out to the truck. If I didn't, we'd still be here come lunch.

She climbed into the truck and fastened her seatbelt. "What have we got to do?"

"Whatever you want."

"Really?"

"Yes. On one condition."

She looked over at me warily. "What?"

"You agree to spend the rest of the weekend with me. I'll even take you to Sunday dinner in Hell. I mean, at your parent's."

"You'll go to Sunday dinner at my parent's with me?" Something in her voice made me look over at her.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I take you?"

"Well, Hector usually takes me. I thought you didn't want to go there. My mother's been asking me what's going on. I mean, she likes Hector, but she keeps asking me why I won't go back to Joe…" Ah, the root of the problem exposed at last.

"I didn't want to intrude on your partnership, Babe. I thought you were happy having Hector take you over."

"I am. It's just…"

"I know Babe. How about if we take a ride to your parent's right now, and straighten this out?" I was more than a little pissed. Her mother was still trying to get her to go back to Joe, after he'd shaken her, dragged her, and pushed her down on the ground _in front of their house_?

"Are you crazy?"

"Yes. About you."

"What are you going to tell my mother?"

"The truth."

Her mouth was still hanging open when I put the truck in gear and pulled out into traffic, headed for her parent's.

I pulled up in front of The Plum's house. Steph was looking nervous. I was pretty sure she was trying to find a way to crawl under my floor mats to hide.

I got out of the truck and went around to get her out of the passenger side. Judging by the look on her face that might be easier said than done. I got the door open, but then I had to pry her fingers off the armrest. When I finally loosened her grip, I realized there was no point in trying to get her to walk to the house. I sighed and slipped my arms under her, lifting her out of the truck. I kicked the door shut and turned around to carry her into the house. Her mother and grandmother were standing at the door, staring at us, open-mouthed. Shit. Double teamed before I even got to the door.

Her mother held the door open and I thanked her as I passed through.

"Mrs. Plum. Mrs. Mazur." I walked into the living room. Mr. Plum was nowhere to be seen. He had probably escaped in his cab. I made a mental note to call on him when one of us needed a ride, to assist him in his escape.

"What did she do now? Should she be in the hospital? Is she hurt?" Obviously, Mrs. Plum had no faith in Steph at all. No wonder she was so fucking insecure.

I shot her a look that makes all but the most seriously chemically impaired cringe and shut up. It worked. Her mouth stopped. She turned on her heel and headed into the kitchen. She came back out with a tray holding coffee and tea, along with cookies.

"She's fine, Mrs. Plum." I sat down on the couch, settling Steph in my lap. I was vaguely surprised that Grandma Mazur hadn't said anything yet. Or grabbed my ass. I caught her smiling at me, out of the corner of my eye. I turned to her. She smiled bigger and went upstairs. Huh.

Mrs. Plum placed the tray on the coffee table and sat down on the edge of a chair at the other end of the couch.

"What's wrong, then?"

"I understand there's some confusion as to why Stephanie hasn't returned to Joe." I knew damn well there was no confusion, just relentless pressure. That pressure was going to end here and now.

Mrs. Plum smiled at me, a little too brightly. "They're just having a fight. They'll make up. They always do. They're going to get married."

I felt every muscle in Steph's body tense. I knew that an explosion was imminent. Better to diffuse this bomb now.

"No, they're not. No, they won't. Over my dead body." That should cover it. I felt a little of the tension leave her body.

Her mother's mouth was open in a perfect 'O'. Her eyebrows had disappeared into her hairline. Her eyes were the size of silver dollars. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. It's not a healthy relationship, and if you really care for Stephanie, you'd see that. But then, I think you know the truth." I looked at her hard. Yup – she knew. Now I was really pissed. She knew. She knew that Joe was fucking around. She knew that he'd hurt Steph physically. And she still pushed Stephanie to go back to him, just to get her married off. I was disgusted.

She made no response to that.

"Mrs. Plum," I was unable to keep my disgust out of my tone. I took a deep breath, trying for a neutral tone. "Mrs. Plum, I think that you should be aware of something. I love Stephanie. I'm going to do everything in my power to make her happy. I'll do whatever I can to keep her safe." I'd already killed Abruzzi to keep her safe. If she hadn't beaten me to the punch, I'd have killed Cone, too. For that matter, I was relatively sure I'd have killed Ramirez if I'd been able to get to him first…"I'm not going anywhere. I won't ever hurt her, physically or otherwise. I won't let anyone else hurt, either, if I can find a way to stop it. I love her. She's mine. I'm hers. End of story. Do not _ever_ try to pressure her to return to Morelli. Never try to change her again, either."

Steph finally relaxed again, her face hidden against my chest. Her hands were gripping my shirt. I hugged her. I whispered in her ear, "Better?" She nodded. I think.

"But… "

"No buts, Mrs. Plum." That was my final answer.

"What about Hector?" Oh. Maybe not my final answer.

"Hector is Stephanie's partner at work. They are currently sharing an apartment to establish trust and a better knowledge of how the other thinks, acts, and works."

"I thought…"

"You thought wrong. Hector has a very nice boyfriend."

"So…"

"Yes."

"Oh…" She looked a little confused now. "Will you and Hector be coming for dinner tomorrow night with Stephanie?"

"I will. Hector's away for the weekend."

She smiled at me, looking dazed now. "We'll see you then."

I stood up, still holding Steph. I carried her back out to the truck and put her in the passenger seat. I pried her fingers off my shirt and returned them to the armrest, and I buckled her in. I walked around and got into the driver's side. Before I pulled away, I looked back at the house. Her mother was standing in the doorway, still looking confused. Grandma was standing next to her, still grinning, and waving at me. I waved back and drove off.

"What just happened?" We were back at the office already. I wondered what had taken her so long to talk. Given the question, though, I was pretty sure she had spent the trip in pineapple upside down cake withdrawal.

"We talked to your mother."

"I talked?" Oh, yeah. Definite withdrawal.

"I talked. Your mother talked. Grandma Mazur went upstairs. You sat in my lap. You didn't talk. You listened."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Of course not." At least not with me. Her mother could be another story, though.

"That's good."

"What would you like to do today?" Better to get her mind off of dessert now.

"I don't know what I want to do. I think I should buy stock in a bakery." So much for getting dessert off her mind.

"Ella will make you all the cake you want, Babe. So think about what you want to do from now until six tomorrow evening."

"Ella will make me cake?" Ella always makes her cake. Well, when she had dinner with me, at least.

"Ella always makes you cake. Of course she'll make you cake."

"That's nice of her. Do you think she knows how to make pineapple upside down cake?"

"I'm sure she does. If not, we can get her a recipe."

"Oh."

"All set now?"

"I guess so."

"Are you ready to think about something to do this weekend?"

"I guess so." And she gripes about me being uncommunicative?

I parked the truck and got out. She followed me this time. I headed for the elevator. When the doors closed, I looked at her. "Your place or mine?"

"There's a difference?"

What did she just say? "What?"

"You own the building. So, technically, both apartments are yours. One of them is half mine, but a bunch of my stuff is in your apartment. So, really, there's no difference, other than the floor."

Huh? What had I missed here? "RangeMan owns the building. So, I guess you could say that both apartments belong to me, because I own the company. You and Hector share an apartment, so it's _yours_. The seventh floor is technically mine. But, it's yours, too, if you want it to be." I hadn't planned on asking her to live with me this way. I'd imagined a romantic evening together. I should know by now that nothing ever goes as planned with this woman. Suddenly, I had a glimpse of the frustration Morelli had probably felt on a regular basis. At least I wouldn't react the way he did.

"Mine, too?"

"Yes. Yours, too."

"Really?" I'm getting sick of that word.

"Really. If that's what you want."

"What about what you want?"

I seriously considered banging my head on the wall of the elevator. Hope no one needs it anytime soon. "What about it?"

"Do you want me there? I mean, here. I mean… Shit. I don't know what I mean."

"You want to know if I want you to consider my apartment yours, too." I made it a statement, but it was actually more of a question.

"That's what I want to know!" Now we're getting somewhere. Finally. I think.

"Are you sure you want that answer?" Much as I wanted her to live with me, I wasn't sure she was ready. Back to the no pressure rule I'd imposed on myself.

"I think so."

"Let me know when you're sure."

"Okay."

"Which floor?" Maybe this time I'd get an actual answer. We'd been standing here for at least ten minutes. I knew the control room was probably on the floor, laughing. Or, they were glued to the monitors. I hope I didn't say anything potentially embarrassing…

"The seventh." Finally. I can't say I was disappointed by her choice.

After the elevator discussion, I was relieved to open my door and have her follow me in.

I stopped off in the kitchen for water and snacks. I knew she was unlikely to sit for more than five minutes without food to distract her. And I knew I was going to need more than five minutes to jump this hurdle.

She was sitting on the couch, leaning back with her eyes closed. I set the bribes down on the coffee table. Her eyes didn't open.

"What's on your mind, Babe?"

"Everything." Not good.

"Tell me about it." It wasn't exactly a command. More like gentle but not-so-subtle prodding.

"My mother is going to hate me. I'm not sure exactly where I live anymore. I'm terrified that I'm going to screw something up, because everything's going too well. I'm waiting for something to blow up, because it's just been too long. And last night, I slept with my boss and best friend. Now I'm afraid." Was that all?

Best to tackle this one problem at a time, I decided. "Why is your mother going to hate you?" Like I didn't know.

"I'm not going back to Joe. I'm not getting married. I'm not popping out kids. And now, she knows," she said flatly.

"Have you ever considered the possibility that she's always known, and that's why she pushes you so hard?"

Her eyes finally opened and she looked at me. "No." She sounded a little surprised.

"Something to think about."

"It is."

"Why are you unsure about where you live?"

"I'm still paying rent on my apartment, but someone else is living there. I mean, they pay _me_ rent, but I'm still responsible. My furniture is still there, because I sublet it furnished. On the surface, I live downstairs with Hector. But only some of my stuff is there. Some of my stuff is up here. So I feel like I have three places, but no home." That actually made sense to me, in a Stephanie-convoluted sort of way. Please, don't let me start thinking like her on a regular basis.

"Where do you want home to be?" The eyes closed again. Shit.

"I don't know."

"That's okay. Where do you feel most comfortable?" Maybe that was a better way to phrase it.

"With you." I felt a thrill run through my body. She hadn't exactly answered my question, but she'd made me happy.

"Okay. With me here, with me somewhere else, or with me in general?"

"Just with you. Anywhere. Everywhere. It doesn't matter." Thank God.

I started to tell her that worked for me, but she started talking again. "Home is with you." Her voice was filled with wonder. Her eyes opened again and she just stared at me. "When did this happen?"

"Steph, I don't know when it happened for you." I knew, to the minute, when I'd fallen for her. This time, I was the one dying of curiosity.

"I think you've been home to me for a lot longer than I've admitted to myself. But right this minute, I know that's the truth." Her voice was soft, like she was talking to herself again..

"Where would you like our home to be?"

"Our home?"

"Yes. Ours. A place where you and I can live, together. If you want that."

"I don't care where it is, as long as you're there." Hey, works for me.

"Okay. How about calling this apartment home for the moment. Your place with Hector is temporary. We can choose a more permanent place after your contractual obligation with Hector is complete. That work for you?"

"I think so."

"Well, that's two problems solved. What are you afraid to screw up?"

"Work. This. You and me…"

"Why? You're doing really well with Hector. But you already know that. How do you think you'll screw us up?"

"I've got two relationships behind me that failed. The most recent one failed because of me. The first one, I'm not really sure. I mean, his cheating it what ended it, but what made him cheat? Maybe that was my fault, too, and I just missed it. Commitment and marriage scare me to death. I don't think I want kids. I'm relationship challenged."

I pulled her into my lap after handing her a plate of cookies. "Your relationship with Dickie ended because of his inability to keep his namesake in his pants. Some people are just never happy with one person. Your relationship with Morelli failed because of him, not you. You shouldn't have to change all that you are for a relationship. It would be different if you had changed when you were already involved, but you didn't. He knew up front who you are. I don't think it's the commitment that scares you about us. I think it's the fear that I'll expect you to change." I tilted her face up so that she was looking at me. "I love you, I want you just the way you are. I fell in love with who you are, not who I want you to be."

She started crying again. Christ. I don't think I've been dry in a month. I gave up on talking and just cuddled her. When the waterfall slowed to a trickle, I kissed her gently. "You can't screw up what we have because you're you, Steph."

"I can't? What if I break the Merry Men? Or end up in a Dumpster? Or blow up a car?"

"No. You can't. If you break one of the guys, he'll heal." I hoped she didn't accidentally kill one of them. That could mess up her head forever. "If you end up covered in garbage, we can clean you up. That's the nice thing about skin: a little soap and water and it's good as new." I made no mention of clothes. Those would just be tossed and replaced. "I've told you before: cars are replaceable. People aren't. So, as long as you don't blow yourself up, there's no problem." I'd die if she blew herself up.

"What about kids?"

"What about them?"

"Do you want more?"

"Not right now, and not in the near future. That's why my love comes with a condom." Lately, it had been birth control pills, but she'd get the idea. "Someday, if you want them, we'll talk about it. But if you don't ever want kids, that will be fine, too. If you want kids without giving birth, adoption is also an option." I knew part of her concern giving up her job if she got pregnant.

"Do you mean that?" Why did she think I said it?

"I mean it. Our relationship involves give and take. Not just one person giving while the other takes. I've told you more than once lately that there are things that are your choice. Some things are my choice. Most things will be _our _choice, and we'll make the decision together."

She nodded. I kissed her again.

"I meant what I said this morning, Steph. This is forever." She blushed. "Now, about sleeping with your boss and best friend…" Her face went crimson. "Am I really your best friend, Babe?"

"Yeah, you are." For some reason, that meant more to me than being her lover. It implied a high level of trust and security between us.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me."

"Why?"

"Not many people are willing to call someone like me 'friend.' Not really. They'll work for me and with me. They'll follow my orders. They'll even go out with me to unwind after a hard job. But they don't know me, and they don't really want to. Only Tank. And you."

"I've always thought of you as my friend, Ranger."

I smiled at her. "I've always thought of you as a friend, too, Babe. I also think of you as my lover, and as the keeper of my heart. To tell the truth, I consider you mine on a thousand different levels."

"Oh… Is it okay if I think of you as mine?"

"Absolutely. I am yours."

She pulled me to her and kissed me.

"Anything else on your mind?" Hopefully, only good things remained. If not, well, we'd deal with it.

"Not right now."

"What would you like to do for the rest of the weekend?"

"I don't care. I just want to be with you."

I felt the same way. I had to get us out and about, though, before I carted her off to bed. It was tempting, and becoming harder to resist by the minute. A nagging voice in my head kept telling me that keeping her in bed for days on end would only remind her of Morelli at this point in the relationship. We were going out for the day if it killed me. Which was a possibility.

"How about a picnic at Point Pleasant?"

"I can't picture you having a picnic on the beach, Ranger." I grinned.

"We can fix that, Babe." I got up and went to the kitchen to pack up lunch. She followed me and watched every move I made. "There's a plaid blanket in the linen closet, Babe. Can you go get it?"

She nodded and headed off to get it. I used her momentary absence to clear my mind of thoughts of making love to her on the beach in the twilight. I didn't think she'd appreciate getting sand in all the places it would end up if we did that. Unfortunately, the thoughts refused to leave. I finally compromised with my libido. We'll take one of the Broncos and I'll bring extra blankets….

The weather was perfect for a beach picnic. It was warm, but not hot. There was a light breeze, but no gusting wind. The sun was shining. I had my favorite person in the world with me. I was still adjusting to the idea of her being mine. For so long, I had tried to keep my distance. I had told myself that I could not have her, ever. And now, I did have her. I felt a big, stupid grin cross my face.

This was going to ruin my reputation as a tough guy.

We were sitting on the blanket, watching the water. Well, Steph was watching the water. I was watching her. She turned and caught me staring.

"What?"

"Just admiring the view, Babe."

She snorted. "You like fat chicks?" No insecurity there at all.

"No. I like curvy women." Let's face it - I'm a male. I like curves. Stick figures do nothing for me.

Another snort. "You need glasses."

"No I don't. I'm not blind. I'll have you know my eyes are tested every six months, and I see just fine." I didn't see fit to bring up the fact that my eyes are tested so frequently because not having perfect vision could be lethal for a man – or woman – in my line of work.

"You really think I'm curvy and not fat?"

"I think you are beautifully curvy." I wasn't dumb enough to tell her that I thought she could get a little more exercise and still be curvy.

"So you don't think I need diet?" Was she trying to drive me nuts?

"I think you could benefit from a healthier diet, but I don't think you _need_ a diet." Hopefully that came out right… I kissed her. Not only did I love to kiss her, but maybe it would get her mind off thinking she's fat.

"So you don't think I'm fat." It was a statement, not a question this time. Progress.

"No. I don't. Have I ever lied to you?"

"No. Sometimes, you refuse to answer, but you never lie to me," she acknowledged.

"Exactly. If I tell you something, it's the truth." Or at least a version of it, if I knew the absolute truth would hurt or upset her. Unless, of course, even the partial truth would hurt her. Then I'd lie my ass off. "And if I refuse to answer you, there's usually a good reason."

"Oh. Does it bother you that I ask so many questions?"

Some days it drove me out of my mind. "No. You're a naturally curious person. Your curiosity is part of you, and I've told you, I love the whole package." I flashed her a grin.

She smiled back and crawled into my lap. She stretched her legs out on mine and leaned back against my chest. I closed my eyes and hugged her, loving the feeling of having her close. Loving the feeling of finally having the _right_ to hold her. I kissed her head and rested my cheek on the place I had just kissed.

"Love you, Steph," I whispered.

Her hands came up and squeezed my arms. "Love you, too."

Funny – she had been with Morelli for years without telling him she loved him. She and I were still negotiating a relationship, and she could say the words to me.

We sat there on the beach, saying nothing more until the sun went down. We packed up our stuff and returned to the Bronco.

"Where to, Babe?" My mind had already wandered to the back of the SUV.

"Don't know. Where do you want to go?" Shit.

"Not sure, Babe. Why don't we go get dinner; then decide where to spend the night. We can stay here. We can head back to Trenton. We can go someplace else. Anything you want."

"We don't have to go home yet?"

"Nope. I'm offline for the weekend, unless there's a dire emergency. We don't have be back in Trenton until six tomorrow night."

A smile was spreading across her face. "Let's get dinner and stay here tonight." Yes!

"Take out or sit down dinner?"

She thought for a minute. "Sit down, if it's not too much trouble."

"No problem." I drove to a local diner. I ordered salad and a turkey sandwich. She ordered something fried and cake for dessert. I just shook my head.

I paid the bill and threw a ten on the table for the waitress. "Ready, Babe?" She followed me out the door. "Back to the beach, or to a hotel?" She stopped dead and I almost walked into her. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry. Vision of you naked on the beach." I laughed. I'd been having the same thoughts about her all day. She turned to me with a horrified expression on her face. "Did I say that out loud?"

I put my arm around her and pulled her close. "You sure did."

"Oh shit…"

I leaned over and whispered into her ear the thoughts I'd been having since we were packing up for our picnic. She bolted to the Bronco and jumped in.

Huh. Great minds do think alike….

Five a. m. found me wide-awake. Still. Steph had finally fallen asleep an hour or so ago. We'd driven back to the beach and made love in the back of the Bronco all night.

Unfortunately, my mind was working overtime, working out ways to keep her mother quiet during dinner tonight. Ways to keep her mother from upsetting her. Worrying about Morelli showing up again. Since Hector broke his wrist and threatened him, he hadn't shown up for Sunday dinner. Of course, he drove by to see if Hector was there every week. Steph hadn't noticed that, but Hector had. She really needed to be more aware of her surroundings.

As long as the Navigator was there, Morelli would probably keep his distance. Had I not loaned it to Hector for the weekend, I would simply have driven that. I decided to take the Turbo. That would make a statement, all right.

I slipped out from under Steph's arm and leg, smiling to myself. I managed to get myself dressed without waking her up. I got out of the truck and went to sit on the hood. I wanted to go for a run on the beach, but I refused to leave her here alone. Normally, I wake her up when I get up, but I wanted to let her sleep a little this morning. I needed some time with my thoughts.

One part my mind said that this thing with Steph was moving too fast. Another part kept shouting that it wasn't moving too fast; we'd been dancing around this for years. To be perfectly honest, I'd been in love with her for years, and I wanted to get on with us, with a life together. On the other hand, I worried that I was pushing her. I'd tried very hard not to push, but in the end, I'm a man who goes after what he wants, relentlessly. While that served me well in business, I knew it would bite me in the ass in my personal life. Especially with Steph; she had enough relentlessly pushy people in her life. She didn't need me adding to it. I'd had the time in the hospital and the month since coming home to adjust to the idea of a relationship with her. She hadn't had any time at all to adjust, really.

Which, of course, brought me back to her mother's obsession with Morelli. I think a big part of it came from the fact that Morelli wanted to change Steph into her sister. Her mother wanted her to be like her sister. Basically, she saw Morelli as an ally in her quest to tame and domesticate Stephanie.

Somehow, I didn't think telling Mrs. Plum that Morelli was out of the picture would end her quest to Val-ify Steph. Which meant I had to look for other options.

Basically, I am a problem solver. No matter what people see on the surface, no matter how people view my job, all I really do is solve problems. Some are more complex than others, but they all require the same thing: a solution.

Essentially, I needed a way to announce Steph was off the market, and that I didn't want her tamed or domesticated.

_Duh_. I pulled out my cell phone and made a call. Just like that, I had my solution.

We drove back to Trenton after lunch. I dropped Steph off at RangeMan with the promise that I would be back within an hour. "Slight problem," I told her. It wasn't the truth, really. It was the solution to my problem. And I had said I would pay double what the item was worth if it was ready by two this afternoon. It was five of now.

I pulled up in front of a building with a storefront at street level and an apartment above. The door to the shop opened at my knock. As promised, what I had ordered was ready.

"Thanks, man," I said, handing over an envelope.

"Ranger, this is too much. I told you $500. You said you'd pay double. There's two grand here!" George was a small jeweler who made custom jewelry items and personalized damn near anything. I'd gotten him out of bed at six this morning with a special order.

I opened the boxes he'd handed me again and looked over what they held. Perfect; better than I'd dared hope with the short notice.

"You earned every penny, George."

"It wasn't that hard to do, Ranger. I had the gold and silver discs here, as well as the chains. All I had to do was shape the discs then engrave them and seal them."

"Hey, I appreciate you doing this for me on your day off. Sorry to take you away from your wife."

"Yeah, well, this," he held up the envelope "will go a long way towards forgiveness."

"You sure?" He nodded. "You need anything, let me know."

"Get out of here. I hope this girl's worth it." No doubt in my mind, she was worth it.

"She is. Thanks again."

I opened the boxes again once I was back in the Bronco. Last night, even early this morning, a solution had seemed so hard to find. One phone call, and the solution lay in my hand.

I closed the boxes and slipped one of them into my pocket. I couldn't wait to give it to Stephanie. The other box I set on the passenger seat.

Steph was waiting for me in the seventh floor apartment. I loved coming home and having her waiting for me. Equally, I loved waiting there for her to come home to me.

She was on the bed, flat on her back, her hands tucked under her head. I'd heard her call this her thinking position. I wondered what was going on in that head of hers this time.

"What's going on, Babe?"

"I'm tired." I wonder why…

"You okay?"

"Yup." She didn't sound okay.

"The truth."

She stared at the ceiling. What now? "I don't want to go to dinner with my parents tonight." Hell, me either!

"Why not?"

"I'm going to be filleted. Then, I'll have salt poured over me. Then I'll be picked apart."

"I think I can help with that, Steph." I sat down on the bed next to her. She wouldn't look at me.

"Are we staying home?" she asked with hope in her voice.

I wish. "No. I have something for you. I think it might help with your mother." At least, I hope it will.

She rolled her head to look at me. "What?"

"What have I got?"

"Yeah… And how will it help?"

I dug the box out of my pocket. Something like fear showed in her eyes. "Not what you're worried about, Babe." The fearful look faded a little, and curiosity started to creep in. I opened the box and held it out to her.

I watched her face carefully. Confusion. She touched the item in the box. Carefully lifted it out. Comprehension. Joy.

She held up the set of gold dog tags, dangling from a gold chain. I took the chain from her and held it up while she looked carefully at the two tags. One was engraved with her full name, blood type, social security number and date of birth. The back of her tag said simply _'I'm_ _Forever in Love With You, As You Are._' The other tag had my full name and vital stats on it. The back of that tag said '_I belong to her, and she holds my heart forever.'_

"Ranger…" She was looking up at me, tears again making those blue eyes look like stained glass. I dropped the chain over her head and kissed her.

"There's a similar set on the counter, Babe. Your choice whether you wear or keep either of them." Confusion again. She jumped up and ran to find the other box.

She came back, walking slowly, looking down at the second box. She flopped down on the bed next to me.

"I don't know what to say, Ranger."

"You don't have to say a word, Steph. That's the best part. You can wear either set or neither of them. You can wear both sets. You can keep them both, or give one away. It's your choice and you don't need to say anything."

She looked at both sets of dog tags again. The second set was silver. Like the gold set, each tag had one of our names and vital stats on it. The flip sides were a little different. The back of the tag with her name said _'I belong to him, and he holds my heart forever.'_ The back of the silver tag bearing my name read _'I'm Forever in Love With You, As You Are.'_

The tags were exact opposites, but they were parts of an equal and matching set.

She sat on the bed with me, rubbing her fingers over both sets of tags. "Does this mean what I think it means?" Her voice was shaky.

"What do you want it to mean?" I knew what I meant by them, but I wasn't entirely sure she was ready to hear that, even though we'd sort of talked about it. I decided to return the ball to her court, and let them mean what she wanted them to mean.

"I want them to mean just what they say." Relief tore through me.

"That's what they mean, Babe. They mean we love each other and we belong to each other, forever."

"I…" She stopped. "Your life doesn't lend itself to relationships, Ranger."

"Neither does yours, Steph." Her mouth was moving again, but no sound was coming out.

"But I want a relationship, Ranger." She finally spit out.

"So do I, Steph. I told you I love you. I told you I want to be a part of your life, and I want you to be a part of mine. I asked you to live with me."

"I know you said those things, but…"

"No buts, Babe. I told you, this time it's forever. I avoided involvement with you to keep you safe. It didn't work. I can't keep my distance from you any longer. I'm in too deep to deny what I feel for you."

"My God…"

"Yeah, Babe." I laid down next to her and pulled her close, looking deep into her eyes. "I'm trying so hard to give you what you want Stephanie. I want nothing more than to move you in here with me and shut out the world. I need to be your choice, though. For the last month, I've been turning myself inside out to make sure that you have choices, without pressure from me," I took a deep breath and held up the dog tags she was wearing. "I truly belong to you. I give you my heart, freely and willingly. I want you to be mine, Babe, but you have to choose me." I kissed her then, long and deep, because the devil in my head told me that she'd run like Hell under the intensity of what I feel for her, and she'd see it if I kept looking at her.

I finally had to stop kissing her, before I got myself into trouble here.

"I chose you the minute I walked through the door the day you came home from the hospital," her voice was husky. The emotion in her eyes was every bit as intense as I felt.

"Thought you'd never say that, Steph…" I kissed her again.

"We need to get dinner over with." Fuck. I'd forgotten about dinner. I nodded, trying to clear my head and focus on getting through the torture this evening was going to dish out. I started to get up but she caught my arm. I turned back to her. She was holding the silver tags in one hand. "I want to put these on you."

I let her, enjoying the pleasant feeling of being possessed by her.

I managed to get us to dinner on time. Considering the way I was feeling this weekend, that was a major accomplishment.

By force of habit, I had tucked the tags into my shirt. Steph had followed my lead.

I held her hand while we walked into her parent's house. I didn't let go until it was time to eat dinner. She sat to my left, so I rested my hand on her thigh through dinner.

Her mother made polite small talk throughout the meal. She didn't once bring up a change of career, marriage, children, or Joe. At the very least, I expected to be grilled on my intentions. Grandma Mazur filled everyone in on the latest Burg gossip. Mr. Plum ate while looking at his plate. Other than a greeting, he hadn't said a word. Steph made occasional responses to her grandmother. I watched and listened.

I passed on dessert. Much to my surprise, so did Mr. Plum. He looked at me and asked me to step outside. Shit. I rose and followed him out the door. I noted Morelli's truck parked a few houses down, lights off. Mr. Plum nodded towards Morelli's truck. "I don't want him anywhere near her, ever again." His voice was filled with barely controlled rage.

"Nor do I, Mr. Plum." I didn't tell him that Morelli's days were numbered if he bothered Steph again.

"My name is Frank. You call me Frank. Do you know what that bastard did?" I knew, but I wondered how much information had filtered through to Frank's ears.

"I know about what he did the first time Hector came to dinner with her. I know about the ladies on Stark Street. I know everything he did." Just saying it made my stomach turn and my blood boil.

"Does Stephanie know?

"Obviously, she knows what he did to her here that night. So far as I know, she knows nothing about his other, ah, activities."

Frank Plum nodded, a grim look on his face. "If at all possible, I don't want her to know. I don't want her to know that two men in a row cheated on her. She doesn't deserve that."

"I agree, sir. I think that knowledge would only hurt her. I have evidence against him. In the event that he refuses to leave her alone, copies will be delivered to the mayor, the police chief, Morelli, and his direct supervisor."

Frank smiled coolly. "I knew you were a good man." He held out his hand and I shook it.

"Thank you, sir."

"I know that Hector's yours. He keeps her safe when she's working. Can you keep her safe when she's not?"

I looked him in the eye. "I'd kill for her. I'd die for her."

Something flickered in his eyes and he gave me a slight nod as he turned to go back in the house. "Me, too."

"Good to know." I followed him back inside.

Steph looked at me questioningly when we returned to the dining room. I flashed her a reassuring smile. There was a tight, anxious look around her eyes. Shit.

I slid into the chair next to her and pulled her chair closer to mine. I rested my arm on her shoulder and leaned over to kiss her gently on the lips. "You okay, Babe?"

"I am now." I should have known her mother would jump on her the second I left the room. I turned to Mrs. Plum and narrowed my eyes at her. I didn't have to say a word. She got the message.

I started rubbing the back of Steph's neck, surreptitiously working the chain with the tags out of her shirt. She'd been fidgeting in her chair, but she stilled as she realized what I was doing. Clever girl.

I finally got the tags free and gently let them rest on her chest. The sealant kept them from making any noise. Clinking tags could be dangerous to your health in our line of work. Her mother's eyes fell on the tags as the light caught the gold. Without changing expression or missing a beat in her chattering, she reached over to lift the tags from Stephanie's chest. Stephanie shot her mother a look that froze her in place, hand extended.

"No, mother." Her mother pulled her hand back and stared at Steph. "They say what you've already been told." Her mother opened her mouth to say something, but Steph cut her off. "They're not decorative jewelry. They're not something to flash around. Not a ring to show off. _They're personal."_

"Oh. You're not getting married to Joe?" Jesus, this woman was thick. Now I knew where Steph got it.

"No. I'm not going to marry Joe. I'm not even going to date him ever again. I'm through with Joe!" No hesitation. No doubt. My heart soared. No chance of her returning to him this time, no matter what he'd done.

"What will happen to you? Who will you marry? Who will take care of you?"

"I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."

"No, you won't. You can't take care of yourself. You can't cook. You blow up cars. You get kidnapped."

Now, if I had been fool enough to say those things to Steph, I'd be running as fast and as far away as possible before the last syllable left my mouth.

Mrs. Plum wasn't that bright.

Steph's body had tensed. If I moved my hand off of her neck, she'd go over the table at her mother. I could feel her muscles bunching up, preparing to launch herself. Oh, bad. I looked over at Frank. He was staring at Mrs. Plum, his mouth hanging open. Must be a family thing. He was no help currently. Grandma's head was moving back and forth, looking from Steph to Mrs. Plum and back again. I felt Steph start to move. I moved my hand to her shoulder, trying to hold her in her chair.

"She can take care of herself. When she can't, I will. When I can't, Hector will. I have a cook who takes care of meals for us. Steph hasn't blown up a car in ages. She hasn't been kidnapped in a long time, either." That last bit was technically true; she had gone to Scrog willingly in an effort to save Julie.

Mrs. Plum turned to me. "I don't even know who you are!"

"I'm the man who loves your daughter. You don't have to know me. All you need to know is that she chose me."

I felt Steph sag into me. Detonation sequence halted. For now.

"Ready to go how, Babe?"

She nodded and I got up. I held out my hand to her. She took it and stood up to follow me out.

"Wait!" Her mother had jumped up and run for the kitchen. Steph hesitated. I looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"It's okay." I nodded at her and relaxed a little. I just wanted out of this madhouse. If waiting two seconds would get me out faster in the long run, I'd wait.

Her mother came flying out of the kitchen with a bag in hand. She held it out to Steph, who took it and looked down at it. "Thank you, Mom."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize…"

"It's okay Mom." I followed Steph out the door.

"Proud of you, Babe." I hugged her tight and kissed her. From the corner of my eye, I could see Morelli's truck. I heard the engine start and the lights flicked on. He was headed for the Porsche. Let him hit it, I thought. I started pulling Steph back towards the house. If he hit the car, I didn't want either of us to get hit with shrapnel. The truck was swerving. He had to be loaded. Either that or he hadn't decided whether to hit the truck or me yet. I pushed Steph behind me in an effort to keep her as safe as possible. Morelli was still coming. A heartbeat before he hit the Porsche he cut the wheel hard and the truck turned towards us. Stephanie was struggling, trying to get in front of me. Morelli clipped her with his front bumper, spinning her into me. We both crashed to the ground. Morelli hit a fence.

I held her still with one hand, trying to see how badly she was hurt. "Babe?" She looked at me. Holy shit, was she pissed.

"I'm going to kill him," she ground out.

"Are you okay?" I couldn't see any obvious injuries. No blood.

She nodded. "I think so. I didn't really get hit, just pushed."

"Can you get up?"

"Don't know."

I was crouched next to her. I slipped my hands under her arms and stood up, lifting her to her feet. I held onto her as I set her down, making sure she could stand. She swayed but didn't fall. "Babe?"

"I'm okay." She clung to me. I held on to her, not wanting to let her go. She didn't seem to be hurt badly. Hopefully, it was just another case of bruises.

Morelli finally climbed out of the truck and staggered over. "I owed you that. I hope your leg is broken. It's your turn." He turned and walked away.

I debated going after him, but decided that taking care of Steph was more important. I scooped her up to carry her to the car. Her family was out front, staring at us. I put her in the car and waved at them. I got in and drove us home.

I parked the Porsche and told Steph to stay put until I could help her out. I didn't want her to fall. I lifted her out of the car and carried her to the elevator.

"This is getting to be a habit, Babe." I smiled down at her. "I think I like it, though. Which floor?"

She wrapped her arms around my neck, smiling up at me. "Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Do you have to ask?" I pressed the button that would take us to the seventh floor.

I carried her through the apartment to the bathroom. I carefully set her on her feet and let go of her to make sure she could stay upright on her own. When I was sure she could, I ran hot water into the tub, with more Epsom Salt. When the tub was full, I stripped us both and lifted her into the tub. I followed her in. She leaned back against me, relaxing. I gently ran my hands over her, checking for injuries. I felt a sense of déjà vu. Hadn't I just done this? Well, not exactly this, but…

"I'm going to be sore in the morning, aren't I?"

I winced. "Yeah, I'd say so."

"Shit."

"Yup."

"I have to call Hector. There's no way I can go after anyone tomorrow. We'll have to shuffle our schedule and do something else." At last, a sensible plan. Never thought I'd see the day. I smiled.

"Sounds like a plan." I reached behind me to grab the phone and I handed it to her. "Go for it."

She called Hector and told him what happened. He told her that he would handle rescheduling their day. She told him she was staying the night with me. He told her to have a good night, then asked to speak to me.

"Now can I kill him?" Back to Spanish, in case Steph heard him. They hadn't gotten to Spanish Lessons yet, which was a good thing right now.

"Not yet, my friend. I think he was frustrated and acted without thinking this time. No one got hurt," I replied, in Spanish.

"If you're sure."

"For now."

We disconnected at the same time and I put the phone back.

"Why did Hector want to talk to you?" I knew she'd ask.

"Wanted to make sure that you're really okay, Babe." Close enough to the truth.

"Why couldn't he ask in English?" Shit. I thought she'd ask, but I'd been hoping she wouldn't.

"Habit. For both of us, Spanish is our first language. When we're upset, we return to what's most familiar." Again, not entirely the truth, but close enough.

"I can understand you being upset, but why is Hector upset?" An easy question at last.

"He loves you Babe."

"He likes me. He feels protective of me. He doesn't love me."

"All kinds of love, Babe."

"True. Does that mean it's okay with you if I love Hector, too?"

I laughed. "Absolutely. I can honestly say I have no problem with you and Hector loving each other."

She giggled. "So you're not a possessive man?"

I tightened my arms around her. "I'm very possessive, Babe. But I'm not stupid, either. Why be needlessly jealous? That only causes problems."

She nodded slightly. "It does. It also means you have no trust in the other person."

I frowned. She was right, but I didn't think I'd ever done anything to make her think I didn't trust her. "True. I trust you, though, so it's one of those non-issue things."

Her voice trembled. "Morelli never trusted me."

"I'm sorry, Babe. I think that a big part of his lack of trust was – and is – fear of losing you. Instead of devoting his time and energy to what he had, he wasted time on worry over and fear of what might happen. In the end, his behavior caused the very thing he feared."

She was quiet, thinking that over. Hopefully, that wouldn't make her run back to him. She had a habit of wanting to take care of everyone, sometimes at great personal cost. "I don't want to live like that anymore." Thank God.

"You don't have to, Babe. I trust you. If, at some point, you and Morelli end up being friends, I'm not going to be all over you." I wouldn't like it, but like I said, I'd learned from his mistakes. I wouldn't repeat them.

"I appreciate that about you, you know. You always tell it like it is, even if that's not what I want to hear."

"I do my best."

"Is there really an 'us' now, Ranger?" I could hardly hear her.

"Do you want there to be?" Maybe she needs or wants more space, I thought.

"Yes."

"There's an 'us' Babe. Now. Tomorrow. Next week. Next month. Next year. As long as you want it."

"What if I want forever?"

"Already told you that's what I want, Babe. Forever is yours." We'd had this conversation more than once lately. I didn't mind giving her the reassurances she so obviously needed. What I did mind was the years of people undermining her confidence, which led to her current level of insecurity. I silently cursed her mother, Morelli, Dickie, The Burg, and everyone else who'd had a hand in yanking the rug out from under her in her life.

"Joe once told me that there was him, and there was me, and sometimes we were together, but there was no us. It didn't really upset me at all. It would bother me a lot if you told me that."

I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that one. Well, other than punching Morelli for saying something like that to her. "There is an us, Babe. Forever. I promise to never say anything like that to you."

Another nod. I kissed her neck and felt the shiver that ran through her. "Ready to get out, Babe? I'll put some liniment on the beautiful new set of bruises."

"Ugh. I swear I'm going to be black, purple, brown, and yellow polka-dotted forever." She had a point. The bruises from her first run in with Morelli and her tangle with Jones were just about faded, and now she had a new set starting.

She got out of the tub and I followed her. Once she was dry, I told her to go lay down on the bed so I could get all the bruises. She was asleep by the time I finished rubbing in the liniment. She smelled of Eucalyptus.

I got her under the covers with me and pulled her close. God I love bedtime when she's here.

I got her up with me at five. I went running. She staggered into the bathroom for a shower. I'd just smiled at her when she asked why it was still dark outside.

I took off for my run after stretching out good. I need to do a little thinking this morning, so I'd not even asked her to run with me. Probably, she would have told me to go fuck myself, but no point in taking a chance. While I ran, I planned out my day. I decided to pay Morelli a visit today. I wanted him to stay the fuck away from Steph. Originally, my plan had been to give him some time to cool off, then go chat with him. I didn't want it to come to violence, but I also didn't want a repeat of last night. While Hector had followed my orders so far, I was aware that I had no real control over him. And I didn't want Morelli dead; Steph wouldn't want that.

The problem with Morelli required a solution. A set of dog tags or two wasn't going to cut it this time. Truth be told, I understood how he felt. I'd felt the same way when I'd sent her back to him. The difference between us was that I could actually control my temper and hide what I was feeling. He couldn't. Part of me actually felt for the guy, even after what he'd done. I'd die if I lost her, especially now that she was finally _mine. _I have no intention of letting her go, or of letting her slip away, or driving her away from me. I have every intention of keeping her with me forever.

None of that changes the fact that Morelli still needs dealing with. I'm thinking that meeting him for lunch at Pino's would be best. Technically, it's his turf, but it's a public place loaded with witnesses. Granted, a good chunk of them would be cops, but I had no problem with that. All I wanted to do was talk, and make it clear to Morelli that he needs to back off and cool off, and keep his distance until those things were accomplished. I pulled out my cell and called Tank during my last mile. I asked him to pull everything we had on Morelli and get me copies of it. I told him to call Morelli and arrange a meeting. Than I let him know that he was coming to Pino's with me. Never hurts to have a human mountain on your side.

I stretched again to cool off when I got home. With her here, it felt like home instead of just a place to crash. It felt good.

Ella had already brought breakfast up. There were donuts on the tray, along with what looked like a gallon of coffee. I chuckled.

I could hear the shower running. I decided breakfast could wait a few more minutes and headed to the bathroom.

Tank and I were already seated when Morelli strolled in. He didn't look good at all. Stressed. Sick. Hung over.

We nodded at each other and he sat down. We placed an order and sat waiting for it in silence. No sense in starting to talk now. We'd only be interrupted when the drinks and food arrived.

Morelli had his hands on the table and he was staring at them, his eyes half closed. I watched him. The longer I watched the worse he looked.

"She's not coming back to me this time, is she?" His voice was gravelly, and I realized with shock that he was closer to the edge than I'd thought.

"Not this time, man." I kept my tone soft and neutral.

"I don't deserve her. I fucked up everything with her." No, he didn't deserve her. And he had definitely fucked up.

"You're just not right together, Morelli." I used the same tone I had before.

He started to shake his head, then stopped himself and nodded. "We're not. It never worked, and it never will."

Sure enough, the food came then. Tank tore into his food, reminding me a little of Steph. I ate more slowly. Morelli mostly pushed his food around, not eating much of anything.

"Why'd you want to talk to me, Ranger?" Like he didn't know. "Why didn't you just make me disappear?" Good question.

"Making you disappear would hurt Steph, and I don't want her hurt. I wanted to talk to you to avoid that."

He snorted. Must be a Burg thing. "You'd love to see me gone." I would. I'd like to ship him off to Guam.

"I would. She wouldn't. In the end, Morelli, this is about her. Not you. Not me. Her."

"I know. It's always been about her, hasn't it?" It has been. He and I had gotten on fine until she came along and we both decided we wanted her. Hell, I hadn't taken him as a skip because I respected the man too much to hunt him down like a dog.

"Yeah."

"You know when it started to bother me?" Not really, but as long as he was talking, we weren't fighting, so I was going to let the man talk.

"When?"

"When she didn't make any real effort to hunt you down and take you in when you skipped."

"Why? Maybe she just knew she couldn't get me." That was bullshit and we all knew it. If she'd called me and told me she was going to take me in, I'd have cuffed myself and loaded myself into her back seat.

"She agreed to help you, just like she agreed to help me. Only, in the end, she took me in. You, she set free." She set me free in a million different ways, but I wasn't telling him that.

"Don't know what to tell you. She's independent, and who the Hell knows what goes on in that head of hers?" That was at least partially true. I knew what went on inside her head, and I paid attention to it.

Morelli almost smiled. "She's a force of nature. No stopping her, is there? She gets a hold of something and nothing will make her let go. I guess that should have told me something. She was always willing to let me go."

"Yes, she is." I wasn't touching the thing about her being willing to let him go.

The bill hit the table and Tank grabbed it. He handed it to the waitress with a fifty and told her to keep the change. She almost fell over. All three of us chuckled. We got up to leave and I looked at Morelli. "I'm saying this for your own safety, Morelli. Steer clear of her for a while."

He grimaced. "Hector or you?"

I grinned. "Mostly Hector. Some days, I think that handing her over to him wasn't my best idea ever. But, he's devoted to her."

Morelli ruefully rubbed his wrist. The cast was still on it. "That he is."

We all left then. I was both relieved and shocked that it had been a civilized conversation instead of a confrontation. Either way, I was glad it was settled.

Tank looked at me as we drove away. "Proud of you, man. That could've gone real bad, if you'd let it."

"I know." Part of me still wanted to beat the shit out of Morelli, but it would be a bad move and, in the end, it would solve nothing. Sometimes, you have to pick your battles. I'd chosen to not fight this one, if at all possible.

I was smiling as we pulled into the garage.

_Six months after Ranger came home…_

In two weeks, the six month partnership contract is up. Hector has requested a RangeMan apartment. I've approved his request. He'll be moving down the street to a place in an apartment building RangeMan purchased not long ago. The couple living at Steph's place is refusing to leave. I didn't even have to quietly offer them a free year's rent to refuse to move. For some unfathomable reason, they like the place. I can't imagine why.

She doesn't seem real upset about being unable to return to her apartment. I'm hoping that this means she plans on living with me. Although she calls my apartment home, I'm not sure where she stands on taking up permanent residence there with me. Hopefully, she'll be happy about it.

She's been feeling and acting ever more confident lately, like she's finally comfortable in her own skin. I'm happy for her, and I'm happy with her. All of the time I spent finding options for her and the choices I let her make did her a world of good. I think surrounding her with people who believe in her has done even more, though.

She stopped throwing hurdles up after I gave her the dog tags. We both wear them every day, all the time. We wear them tucked into our clothing, close to our hearts, where they belong. We don't display them because, like she told her mother, they're personal.

We haven't discussed the status of our relationship, either. We've simply allowed it to grow, along with our feelings for each other. She no longer questions why I love her, or for how long. She just accepts that I love her, and I always will. I accept the same things about her.

We're in a good place, she and I. We like it here. We like moving forward instead of looking back.

Tonight, I'm going to formally ask Steph to live with me. I've asked her before, but she's never really given me an answer. I'm relatively sure she'll say yes this time, but I know better than to take anything for granted with her. Maybe I should say I'm _hoping_ she says yes.

Ella's making all Steph's favorites for dinner. She's making pineapple upside down cake for dessert, too.

Morelli has kept his distance. Whether he's doing it because I asked him to or because he's afraid of Hector, I don't know. Frankly, I don't care.

Her mother backed off after Morelli wiped out the fence while trying to wipe out Steph. Frank and I get along great. Grandma Mazur has stopped grabbing my ass.

I'm feeling anxious, waiting for Steph to arrive. Hector called a few minutes ago to let me know they were running late today. Their last skip had given them some static, so it had taken them longer than expected to bring him in.

It was a habit she and I had fallen into: calling to check in and update each other on our day. Occasionally, like today, Hector would call to let me know something was up, or that Steph had had a bad day. When her day went bad, Hector would deliver her to me and I would take care of her for the night. I would return her to him when I got up to run.

We'd fallen into a lot of little habits, things normal couples do. It should have felt strange, given the fact that our lives were anything but normal. It felt good instead.

She strolls into my apartment, looking for all the world like she's meant to be here. I hadn't even heard the door. She's stunning, wearing that gold dress again. I love that dress. I pull her into my arms and kiss her. "God you look good, Steph." I whisper in her ear. She blushes.

"Thank you. You're not bad yourself." I grin and walk her to the dining room.

We sit down at the dining room table. Ella's gone all out with the table and the food. I lit the candles five minutes ago. We talk about our day while we eat. She apologizes for being late, explaining that Norman Mills was massive and had no interest in going back to jail. She and Hector had managed to subdue him, but had to call Lester and Bobby to help get him down the stairs. Apparently, the guy is six feet tall and equally wide, tipping the scales at five hundred pounds.

When we've finished dinner and she's eaten half the cake, I lead her to the living room. I sit down on the couch, pulling her into my lap. It feels good to hold her.

"I like having you come home to me at the end of the day, Babe."

"I like coming home to you." So far, so good.

"I'd like to come home to you sometimes, too."

"I'd like that, too." Still good.

I tilted her face up so that her eyes met mine. "Steph.. Stay with me. Move in here with me. Live with me." It was half question, half plea.

She smiled at me. "Yes. I'll stay with you. I'll move in here with you. I'll live with you." My heart started tap dancing. I kissed her, long and slow.

"You've just made me a very happy man."

"Then we're even, because you've made me a very happy woman."

I scooped her up and took her to bed. I love carrying her, especially to bed.

I have a ring in my safe. George made it for me months ago. It's a diamond set into a special band. There are no prongs holding the diamond, but rather a flat, smooth lip. The diamond sits flush in the thick part of the band, so there's nothing to get caught when she's working or training. I plan on giving it to her on her birthday, which is still a few months off.

It's something to look forward to.


End file.
